: 1 I I! i: 

i II I ■ I'!' I i I'll t |k' 

1 1 . i ill' ' 'i'i ii^'iftii:-- 







lit «A 



.^*^ °^ '^' 



A 



.^^ 












O " 



When I Was a Little Girl 



* * * 



Todays are dull. 
We will wend our ways 
'Back to our beautiful yesterdays.'' 



■V 



o 



/ 



When I Was a Little Girl 



The Tear's l^ound on the 
Old Tlantation 



"By 
ANNA HARDEMAN MEADE 

[Illustrations from Old Photographs of the T>ay~\ 



LOS ANGELES 

The FRED S. LANG COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 






Copyright, 1916 
by Anna Hardeman Meade 



JAN I9i9i7 
"Via) / * 



"Where noiv ivitli pain thou treadest, trod 
The whitest of the Saints of God ; 
To show thee where their feet were set. 
The light which led tJiem shineth yet." 



IN recalling and recording these actual scenes and 
incidents of long ago, for you, my children, I have 
been guided and encouraged by the thought that I 
fulfilled your father's earnestly expressed wish. His 
strong influence, "The light which led," though it is 
behind me, "shineth yet," a steady ray, ever "going 
on before," thrice blessed with warmth, light and love, 
illuminating the way wherein I tread now alone. Let 
my reminiscences be sacred to the memory of your 
father, James Turner Meade, and if the book pleases 
you, accept it as a gift of love from him, and through 

him from your mother. 

A. H. M. 



[vii] 



The Contents 

Page 

Preface ........ vii 

Chapter 

I. Penultima and Its People ... 1 

II. A Visit to Melville Manor ... 27 

III, Stories Grandma Told .... 49 

IV. Christmas 69 



[ixj 



The Illustrations 



Penultima, The Last Home But One 

Grandfather McNeill 

Grandmother McNeill 

Mammy 

The Rector 

The Rector's Wife 

The Family Doctor 

Grandma Melville . 

Miriam 

The Little Brown Church 

The Bishop 

Patty .... 



Frontispiece J 

Facing Page 

J 

16 

18 

34/ 

40 

76 , 

78 

80 y 
88 V 



[xi] 



When I Was a 'Little Girl 







CHAPTER I. 

Penultima and Its People. 

YES, children, I will tell you a story" — so many 
eyes turned upon me, some black, some brown, 
some blue, all bright, beautiful and beseeching 
prove irresistible, but the question comes up, which 
of the many suppliants shall I gratify? Donald asks 
for something about the war; Reggie says he might 
have known Cousin Miriam didn't know anything about 
horses and dogs, and Virginia wonders if young ladies' 
trains gave them as much trouble when I was young as 
they do now, while Unie wants to hear about Christmas 
in old times, and Merry begs for a story about "When 
you were a little girl, Cousin Miriam"; so, children, 
what do you think? Now, don't laugh, — I have con- 
cluded to come off here in my own room, by my lone 
self, where I am undisturbed by conflicting importunities, 
and write you a story, and as Merry's request will 
embrace the wishes of all, and I have no imaginative 
genius, it shall be a true story of when I was a little 

[1] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

girl. Memory must take the place of imagination, and 
as in honor-bound I search the past for something of 
interest, I find that I cannot bring scenes and incidents 
clearly to your mind, until you are familiar with my 
surroundings as they then existed. 

As Penultima, my home from my earliest recollec- 
tion, was the birthplace of your ancestors, and mine, 
for generations, a description of it will interest you all, 
I am sure, and if I linger over it, have patience, and 
remember, that while to others it is but one of many old 
homes, to me it is the "Holy of Holies," the sacred 
spot which excludes the cold world of the present and 
embraces the hope, love and joy of other days, when 
I was a little girl. I am an old, gray-haired woman 
now, and many years and many miles separate me here 
in the city from my childhood's home, but love and 
memory defy time and space, and clearly and gladly I 
can recall and describe it to you. 

The house was of red brick, solid and square, low 
and rambling, with wide halls running this way and 
that, and long galleries on all sides. Surrounded by 
ample yards, gardens, orchards and out-houses of every 
size and description, with the "Quarters" — a long 
double row of whitewashed log cabins in the distance 
— Penultima presented quite an Imposing appearance. 
It impressed one with its vast dimensions, rather than 
its grandeur, though it was a fine old place in its day 
and time. A beautiful lawn, green most of the year in 
that climate, and well grown with grand old oak, beech 
and walnut trees, sloped gradually down to the levee, 
which formed the highway, following the bend of the 
shining river for many miles. It was the stage road, 
and on regular days, the " toot-too, toot-too, toot, toot- 
too, too-oo " of the stage horn called our attention to the 

[2] 




GRANDFATHER McNEILL 



Penultima and Its People 

lumbering old red-and-yellow coach, drawn through 
thick mud, or clouds of dust, as the case might be, by 
its four plodding horses, and piled high in the back with 
baggage, covered with a funereal black oilcloth. Within 
this levee, and enclosing the entire plantation, was a 
rough rock wall, with a heavy gate, whose enormous size 
seemed to invite the outside world to enter and drive up 
the grand avenue of spreading trees to the house. Hos- 
pitality and good cheer fairly flashed from its many 
windows and wide doors, and it resounded with the 
noisy footsteps, happy voices and unrestrained laughter 
of its numerous inmates. 

Our grandfather was the third Donald McNeill who 
had owned the place, his grandfather having settled 
there when he came to this country from Scotland, and 
built the house, which was added to and improved by 
each successive owner, as prosperity rewarded effort, 
until it became the ideal home I have described, under 
Grandfather's direction, when at the age of twenty-two 
he married Miriam Melville, the daughter of an old 
English family who came to this country about the same 
time, and was acknowledged by the exclusive McNeills, 
after due deliberation, as a worthy mate for the heir of 
their house. She was seventeen, and they were lovers 
from the days of round-abouts and pinafores. 

The McNeills were noted for three things, — hon- 
esty, stubbornness and enormous size and strength. 
Grandfather was a worthy representative of his race, 
but his stern virtues were toned down by education and 
the close companionship of one whose gentle but firm, 
dignified, composed character his strong influence had 
helped to form. He was grand and noble, and his name 
and example are a legacy of priceless value to us. And 
dear, beautiful Grandmother ! They were the only par- 

[3] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

ents I ever knew, and my heart swells with love and 
pride in memory of them both. 

Grandfather and Grandmother had seven sons and 
three daughters. Donald, my father, was their first- 
born, and at the age of eighteen was sent to Scotland to 
complete his education. During his vacation the next 
year he visited his mother's relatives in England, and 
being attracted to his orphan cousin, Miriam Melville, 
by the name most dear to him, he fell so deeply in loVt 
with her that her guardian consented to their marriage, 
before he was twenty, and she but seventeen. They were 
to come home as soon as he should complete his course, 
but the fates decreed otherwise. I came into the world 
fatherless, and my young mother thankfully accepted 
the father and mother and home urged upon her, and 
brought me to Penultima, where she lived only a few 
months, and died, leaving me, an object of tender, loving 
care, to the large family, who were father, mother, 
brothers and sisters to me from that time. 

Next to my father was Eunice, who married a dis- 
tant cousin of our name and brought her five fatherless 
children to live in the old home. 

Melville, a son after his father's own heart, chose 
the independent life of a planter, free from care, and far 
from the world in those days, and settled down at an 
early age on his own place, with his little wife, Loulie, 
the daughter of one of the county families, in the dear 
old neighborhood, only a few miles from Penultima. 
Want of ambition was the only fault of which he was 
ever accused, and his wife, being reared in the same 
atmosphere, had no tastes or aspirations beyond his, and 
the perfect peace and content which reigned at Oakwood 
might well have excited the emulation of the more ven- 

[4] 



GRANDMOTHER MCNEILL 



Penultima and Its People 

turesome, who spread their wings and all too soon were 
gone from the home nest. 

Malcolm and Howard were studying their profes- 
sions In northern cities; Dorothy and Cornelia were the 
young ladles of the family; and the three younger boys, 
Campbell, Kenneth and Reginald, with Donald and 
Hardle, Aunt Eunice's boys, were nearest my own age 
and my companions at home and at school. Last, but 
not least, came her three little girls, Patty, Eunice (or 
Unle) , and Baby Merry, as she was called, to distinguish 
her from myself. Miss Hale was our governess and 
dear friend for many years. 

And now our servants must take their place in my 
story, as they do In my heart of hearts, for without them 
no description of home life can be complete. Our 
Mammy was not the regulation mammy, children, with 
fat sides, rolling gait, black, shining features, and a 
kindly smile ; she was very tall and slender, with a form 
whose flat, ungainly proportions were accentuated, as 
far as possible, by her severely plain manner of dress ; a 
light brown complexion, dark eyes, hair nearly straight, 
and peeping from under her brilliant bandana, on every- 
day occasions in plaits, — when we had grand company 
andthebaby was to be "showed off " It was combed out and 
allowed to crimp ; but when Mammy's hair was curled 
in a thrifty bunch on each side of her face, the bandana, 
which was never discarded, pushed far back to display 
her high comb, a gift from Grandfather himself, every 
child ran after her to know whether it was a funeral, a 
wedding, or a big meeting In her church. The set of 
Mammy's bandana, or " hankcher," was an index to her 
feelings, which we children learned to read without fail. 
If it drooped dejectedly In the back and was pulled down 
nearly to her eyes, as though she tried to hide as much 

[5] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

of her face as possible, showing the green edges of 
horseradish leaves, whose pungent quality, acting as a 
counter-irritant, was supposed to relieve pain, we need 
ask no favors — Mammy had " de mis'ry in her head" 
and didn't " have no time to fool wid chillen, nohow." 
On the other hand, if her colors were raised in the rear, 
and the plaits, crimps, or curls displayed in front, peace 
reigned supreme. The former condition, be it said to 
her credit, was of rare occurrence, and Mammy's tem- 
per, though hasty and ungovernable, gave little trouble, 
as it was never displayed towards us, and in the quarters 
she was regarded with awe and admiration, and her 
mandate, " Don't none o' you niggers fool wid me 1 I 
got Injun blood in dese yer veins," was set forth with 
flashing eyes, quaking turban and uplifted hands, and 
was carefully obeyed. There was no love lost between 
Mammy and the overseer, whoever he might be — she 
considered him " po' white folks," and beneath her 
notice, and in her he recognized a dangerous rival, she 
being a person of influence on the plantation, and the 
carrier of Grandmother's orders. "/ want four men to 
shake cyarpets," she would say, and after enjoying his 
perplexity, would add, as she walked off, " Mistis say 
sen' 'em," and the four men were forthcoming, no matter 
how much they were needed in the crop, and Grandfather 
would only smile. Once when the Master and Mistress 
were both away from home, and Uncle Stuart McNeill 
came over from La Vega to look over the place, and see 
if any instructions were needed, the overseer, after 
receiving his orders about plantation affairs, said : "Doc- 
tor, this old woman's insolence is becoming unbearable, 
and I want to ask your advice about punishing her." 
" What old woman ? " asked our uncle. " The one they 
call Mammy, sir. She ought to be sent to the field, sir." 

[6] 



Penultima and Its People 

"What! — What," said Uncle Stuart, in amazed and 
amused consternation, "Punish Mammy! Why, I would 
as soon think of punishing my own mother. Why, man, 
you would have four of the biggest men in Mississippi 
down on you if ever you dare suggest such a thing, and 
she knows It. All you can do is to knuckle down to 
Mammy." Mammy was a woman of strong character, 
an earnest Christian, a devoted mother to her children, 
white and black, and a faithful servant and friend. 

Uncle Rock, her husband, was Grandmother's car- 
riage driver, head-gardener, and general assistant in the 
management of her department of affairs in the home, — 
a position of care and responsibility, which he filled as 
faithfully for her as he did for her mother before her. 

Torm, the butler, and Grandfather's own man, was 
a character in our household. I suppose he was chris- 
tened Thomas, but he would not have known himself by 
a name so dignified. He was short and black, quick- 
motioned and jolly, with little twinkling eyes, white 
teeth, and a beaming smile always forthcoming. His 
manifold duties kept him on the go from morning until 
late at night; he rubbed the silver, polished the glass, 
cleaned the boots, waxed the floors, washed the windows, 
saddled the horses, drove the children's spring wagon, 
rowed the skiff across the river, found everything that 
was lost, kept up with Grandfather's spectacles, was on 
hand to wait on everybody, and never failed to keep 
breakfast hot for delinquents under the ban of Grand- 
father's displeasure. His loyalty to " de fam'ly" con- 
tinued his ruling passion to his dying day. 

Jane, the housemaid, was his wife, and the victim of 
his inveterate teasing and practical jokes; she was a 
good soul, but not bright, and never could understand 
his ways. " Torm," I said, " if you don't let Jane alone 

[7] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

she won't love you." " Law, Missy, you makes me 
laugh," said he. "Jane ain' keerin' — she done los' her 
tas'e fer me, anyhow; she ain't got sense 'noughto know 
Ijes' funnin'l" 

There was Aunt Nacky, the cook, whose duties eould 
never have been accomplished without the able assist- 
ance she demanded and received on all occasions. 

Many more of the happy black faces are recalled by 
the mention of these, but I forget, children, that you did 
not know as I did, these people, so tender and true, so 
gentle and loving, and so dearly loved — they are closely 
associated with the day and time of which we old folks 
love to talk, our youth, and I know not when or where 
to leave off. 

The Sunday afternoon at Penultima, as I recall it 
now, fully embraces my idea of peace, rest and perfect 
happiness, though it may have been a little irksome at 
times. After the cold dinner which was served immedi- 
ately upon our return from church. Grandfather, in his 
great chair drawn up to the fire, or tilted back against 
the post at the southeast corner of the broad gallery, 
puffed slowly at his pipe with stem so long that he could 
not reach the bowl, and would call Torm to light the 
tobacco with a bright little coal, which he preferred to 
the ill-tasting match. With Grandmother always at his 
side and never a book or paper, he gave himself up to 
his family. " Come," he would say, knocking the ashes 
from his pipe, "let's go to the quarters," and running for 
caps and sunbonnets, baskets and bundles, we made ready 
to accompany the Master and Mistress on one of their 
frequent visits to the old, sick and afflicted servants, who 
were always objects of their tender care. " Marster," 
said Torm, "Primus done dead." "Oh, is he? Poor 
fellow! When?" said Grandfather. "He died las' 

[8] 



Penultima and Its People 

night after supper — de doctor say he had de pneu- 
mony — Calline jes' now come home f 'um over de river ; 
ye can hear her hollerin' no sooner'n ye comes ter de 
gittin'-over place." Caroline had married a man belong- 
ing to one of our neighbors, a very unusual thing for one 
of our people. Speechless with sympathy and awe in 
the presence of such grief, we followed Grandmother, 
hearing the most heart-rending cries as we approached 
the cabin. Sincere mourners were seated about the room, 
swaying their bodies and groaning, but speaking not a 
word to the sufferer. " Hit ain't no use er strugglin' 
'gins de Almighty," said one. " Dar, bless Gawd — Mis- 
tis comin' I " and, rising to their feet, they placed a chair 
for her. Taking the poor girl's head in her lap, as she 
threw herself on her knees before her. Grandmother 
petted and comforted her, gently and tenderly as a 
mother. As she became quiet I ventured in, just as she 
was rocking back and forth, seated on the floor, and 
saying between her sobs, " Yes, Mistis, Primus wus good 
ter me — he wus er good husbun', and I gwine ter git 
me ernother one jes' lak him quick es I kin. Good-bye, 
Mistis an' Marster, an' thankee ma'am fer de black 
dress, too — I ain't never had er black dress befo' in my 
life. Oh, my Lawd I Oh, my Lawd Gawd 1 " 

We moved on up the long street, stopping here and 
there with some dinner for an invalid, a little gift for 
some favored one, or the ever-forthcoming *' chaw er 
terbacker." Ole Aun' Crazy Silvey, bent and withered, 
and blind, with a flaming bandana bound high upon her 
snow-white head, hobbled out to meet us, feeling her 
way with a heavy knotted hickory staff, and poured forth 
her woeful story for the hundredth time, of how " Dese 
young uns made her head ache fit ter bus', wid dey fuss, 
er fiddlin' an' er dancin,' an' how she was gwine ter con- 

[9] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

jure 'em twel all de frogs' blood, an' de stump water, 
an' de rabbit's foots, an' de buckeyes on de plantation 
wouldn't do 'em no good, ef Marster an' Mistis wouldn't 
stop 'em no other way." They tried to soothe her with 
promises, but she followed us, walking up and down 
and mumbling gruesome threats. She waved her staff 
towards the river, muttering, " De rains 'scended an' de 
floods come — de floods — yes, I say de floods — I ain't 
see three snakes makin' dey track in de dus' fer nuthin' ! 
I tell ye, mun, Silvey see signs!" " I wonder if she can 
mean anything?" said Grandmother. "Oh, no I poor 
old soul," said Grandfather. But he looked anxiously 
at the mighty Father of Waters rolling sullenly between 
the protecting levees. "Bless Gawd! h' yon come de 
white folks!" said fat, jolly, black Mammy Dinah, 
the mother of Tom and Dalton, the musical twins. " I'm 
jis' tollerable, I thank-ye; how ye do yo'sef ? " and rising 
laboriously from her seat in her cabin door, she invited 
us in with broad smiles and a hearty welcome. She lum- 
bered about, providing chairs, entertained us volubly, 
and presented each of us children with " er aig," " er 
big sweet-tater," or a " red year er cawn." " Hi, dere, 
Missy," she called after me, as we said good-bye; "what 
dat you doin' whis'lin' 'long er de boys? Don't yer 
know er whis'lin' 'oman an' er crowin' hen never come 
ter a good en'? Ye better listen ter yer old Mammy! 
Ye better, mun ! " 

Old Uncle Tom Ford was sunning his white head in 
front of his lonely little cabin, but greeted us standing 
with one hand on his bended back and the other grasping 
his staff, the end of which was polished like glass from 
constant rubbing against his horny palm. " Well, Mar- 
ster, I ain't so well," he said. " No, Mistis, I ain't so well, 
ma'am; de mis'ry done fell in de low part er my back; 

[10] 



Penultima and Its People 

yo' ole nigger ain't long fer dis worl'. No, ma'am, dat's 
so — don't none o' us know de Almighty's ways 'zackly, 
but I'm er gittin' mighty low, Mistis, mighty low," 
shaking his head mournfully from side to side. " My 
knees" — and there followed a long list of his troubles, 
with many an added ache or pain. Uncle Tom was an 
object of contempt and derision on the plantation among 
white and black, on account of his propensity for story- 
telling, and was treated with a show of respect in consid- 
eration of his years, which were not so many as he would 
have had us believe. He, with others, was allowed to 
come to the garden for turnip-greens in season, but was 
forbidden to touch the onions, as they were not old 
enough to use. Having had his suspicions aroused, the 
overseer said one day, " Tom, what you got in that 
sack? " " Greens, Mr. Gunn, greens, sir," he answered. 
" Weil, they smell mighty strong. Get down off er that 
mule and let me see," said Mr. Gunn. Uncle Tom's 
look of injured innocence changed to one of confusion 
as he slowly dismounted and more slowly untied his 
sack. " Now, Tom Ford, ain't you ashamed to tell me 
that story?" said the overseer. "What dat I say, Mr. 
Gunn ? Did I say greens ? I should er said ing'ons ; yes, 
sir, I should er said ing'ons ! " Being a hopeless case, 
he was allowed to go, with a short sermon on the sin of 
lying, to digest along with his onions. 

Our uncle came to the landing one day to be put 
across the river in a hurry, and seeing no one else, he 
said, " Here, now, Tom, you look mighty spry this 
morning; why can't you row me over? " The old head 
took on its mournful shake until Uncle Tom 'spied the 
half-dollar in Uncle's hand. He hesitated, moved slowly 
towards the boat and stooped with a grunt to unfasten 
the chain, but raised himself and leaned on his staff. 

[11] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

"Mars' Stuart," he said, "maybe I kin git you 'cross, 
dough hit do hurt my back, if ye jes' won't let on ter 
Mr. Gunn, caze he'll have me rowin' dis boat fo' mile 
ter town, upstream." 

On our return, a crowd of little darkies, with beam- 
ing faces and flying feet, collected around us with offer- 
ings of shells from the river bank, pretty "blossoms," 
wild grapes, persimmons, sweet gum, bright leaves, and 
many other treasures of the woods and fields. They 
dropped off one by one as we neared the house, where 
we found the usual number of the people to see Marster 
and Mistis on business. 

Sometimes it was to ask permission to go off the 
place for a visit; sometimes to beg the use of a mule for 
a ride; sometimes a new baby to show off, in which case 
a certain trunk was opened, producing a flowered china 
mug, a shining plated silver spoon, a cake of sweet soap, 
a pretty sack or wrapper, or a brilliant striped blanket 
from the ample supply always on hand for such occasions. 

"Well, Fort'n, here you are again; what can I do 
for you?" said Grandfather, with a twinkle in his eye, 
as a bright-faced man appeared, followed by a young 
woman, black as night, with downcast eyes, a dimple in 
her cheek, and hands rolled up in her apron. "Well, 
Marster, me an' Chloe was wishin' ter ax yer advice, — 
dat is ter say, yer permission, sir, — you an' Mistis — ." 
He looked at his companion. "I ain't axin' nothin'," 
said Chloe, tossing her head. "Well, Marster, her 
word's out, an' she say she'll have me ef you an' Mistis 
ain't got no objections." "That's good," said Grand- 
father; "you shall have my blessing and a fine wedding 
feast, too, but what's this — another couple? Lynch 
and Ellen ! Why, Lynch, ain't you too old to get mar- 
ried?" "No, sir, Marster; what ye talkin' about? I 

[12] 



Penultima and Its People 

ain't too ole ter hoe my row in de cotton, is I?" said 
Uncle Lynch, straightening himself up and looking with 
pride at his gentle, kindly, middle-aged bride-to-be. 
"That's so," said Grandfather, "it's never too late to 
mend, or to marry, — blessings on you, too. And still 
they come! Alex and Mehalyl" "Yes, Marster, us 
wants ter marry, too." "Well, well I A triple wedding ! 
The mistress will have to stir herself to have so many 
white dresses ready, but you shall have them. I love to 
see the good work go on. We'll have a big time." 

And a big time we certainly had. Those white dresses 
were forthcoming when the time arrived, embroidered 
Swiss, with three wide flounces on the skirts, and angel 
sleeves ; long white veils and wreaths of flowers delighted 
their hearts. Nice black suits were provided for the 
men, and all wore white cotton gloves. 

The ceremony was performed in our long dining- 
room, the three couples standing in a semicircle, with 
two bridesmaids and groomsmen apiece, and each party 
with its candle-bearer. " I wants Marster ter marry 
me," said Aunt Ellen. " I ain't studdin' none er you 
nigger preachers I " They all followed suit, so Grand- 
father, after what I thought the grandest speech I ever 
heard, pronounced them man and wife, or men and 
wives, and they were married! " Yes, of co'se, our sort 
o' marryin'," they said. 

We had a long table in the yard lighted with many 
lanterns, and killed the fatted calf, and pigs, turkeys and 
chickens, too. They danced all over the long galleries 
to the music of Yeller Joe's banjo, and all the fiddles the 
plantation afforded. The musicians played and danced 
by turns, and all we children danced reels and cotillions 
with them until supper was ready, when Grandfather 

[13] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

said the hilarity was beyond our bounds, and they con- 
tinued the festivities at their homes, far into the night. 

Each season brought its new work and new pleasure 
at Penultima. The winter, though short, was quite 
severe and disagreeable; dull, heavy clouds obscured the 
sun, and steady rain, with an occasional freeze, drenched 
our level country for days, and even weeks, together; 
roads were impassable and boating for pleasure out of 
all question. The boys would sometimes venture forth 
for a ride or hunt, but gladly returned to home and solid 
comfort. The storm-bound wayfarer, not infrequently 
detained within our walls, was hailed with delight, 
bringing news from the outside world. 

Turning from the dismal outlook and driven to our 
own resources for occupation and amusement, we met 
with generous aid and encouragement within; warmth 
and cheer greeted us from the great blazing, sparkling 
wood fires. The ladies busied themselves with sewing 
and fancy-work, and we children studied hard with Miss 
Hale, receiving due encouragement and reward, each 
one, from Grandfather down, showing the greatest 
interest in our work. 

In the long dining-room in the evenings, we had 
noisy games, blood-curdling ghost stories, nut-cracking, 
candy-pulling, corn-popping, and many other schemes 
for fun, which no one but our Torm could have devised 
or executed. 

Grandfather's choice library afforded reading for 
old and young, and the boats coming up the river two or 
three times a week, brought Harper's, and other maga- 
zines, Godey's Ladies' Book, letters and papers, planta- 
tion supplies, and delicacies for the table, and boxes 
from tailors, dressmakers and milliners, and, returning, 
carried off cotton bales and other produce, and firewood, 

[14] 



Penultima and Its People 

cut and corded by the negroes, and sold for their own 
private benefit. 

In our passionate love of music, the entire family 
joyfully agreed, and we had thorough instruction, — 
both vocal and instrumental — from Miss Hale, until the 
time when we all took advantage of opportunities 
afforded us in the cities. I look back upon our efforts 
in this direction with the utmost delight, bringing us all 
together for singing, dancing, or, best of all to me, to 
hear Reggie play his violin, with the flute and piano 
accompaniment. All the new songs found their way to 
our home, and voices being easily found for the different 
parts among so many, they were carefully studied and 
practiced, and very well rendered. The music was 
simple and the rhymes quite sentimental. I wish I could 
recall the love-sick words of " Willie, We Have Missed 
You," with its large illustration of the couple, stiffly and 
laboriously embracing as closely as the enormous hoop- 
skirt would admit, — or the die-away strains of "Thou 
Wilt Come No More, Gentle Annie — e — e." We prac- 
ticed church music a great deal; Miss Hale led and 
instructed the choir, which was composed of most of the 
young people. We had a dear little church about two 
miles from the river, in a beautiful place, which was 
centrally located for our own, and what we called " the 
other neighborhood," back among the hills. There was 
a miniature rectory in the rear of the church, which was 
the home'for many years of our good Mr. Halstead 
and his gentle, kindly wife; closed for weeks together, 
while the dear old couple occupied a warm corner in the 
homes and hearts of their people. 

We had choir practice in the church when it was 
convenient, or at one or another of the homes. Miss 
Hale taught me with special care, at Grandfather's 

[15] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

wish, in order that I might take her place when she 
should leave us. 

Sometimes the girls had friends to spend the Christ- 
mas Holidays with them, and for the dances we had 
then, Big Tom and Dalton, twin brothers from the quar- 
ters, were summoned to furnish the music. They were 
gigantic negroes, exactly alike, as black as night, but 
with teeth and dimples which any belle might have 
envied. They never wearied; but with Yellow Joe to 
pick the banjo, and Grandmother, Miss Hale or myself 
at the piano, they played their fiddles until daylight, 
calling the figures in the sing-song, but most inspiring, 
voices peculiar to themselves, and stopping occasionally 
to tune up, both the instruments and the inner man, — 
Grandfather knowing exactly how much egg-nog would 
make them lively, and when to send them home, happy 
and sleepy. We had a rousing band, and defied the 
oldest, stiff est legs to keep still. They were busy, happy 
days for us all, and came to an end all too soon. 

The Lenten season was drawing to a close one April 
in the long ago, and there was much to be done in order 
that Penultima should bloom forth in all her glory for 
the coming Easter-tide, the queen of festivals, and sec- 
ond in Grandfather's mind only to Christmas. As it 
was the time of year to put in the new crop, the whole 
plantation, indoors and out, was in an uproar of excite- 
ment and busy preparation. The church must be dressed, 
the big old house must be swept and garnished, and the 
flower gardens on each side of the house planted. 

With the earliest Spring days could be seen Mr. 
Gunn, the lank, round-shouldered, red-headed, freckled- 
faced overseer, on his slow, but sure, sorrel horse, 
drawling out his orders to the men, about plows, har- 

[16] 




THE RECTOR 



Penultima and Its People 

> 

ness, cleaning up ground and general preparations for 
the year's crop. 

Barrels of prepared whitewash were carted from 
one end of the plantation to the other, escorted by a 
brush brigade of the old men and others unfitted for the 
hardest labor, who plied their trade until buildings, 
fences, bridges, and even some of the trees, boldly 
asserted their presence under three coats of the glaring, 
purifying disinfectant. Trees were topped and trimmed ; 
the lawn was raked and swept; fields were cleared, and 
the debris lighted into enormous bonfires, 'round which 
the younger negroes danced and played games late into 
the night, while they watched that no harm came to 
buildings or fences. 

Within the house, warm, bright carpets and heavy 
draperies disappeared, floors were waxed and polished 
to the danger line, rugs placed here and there, with 
bright strips in the much-used places; ruffled curtains of 
white muslin floated in the breeze, which could always 
be found somewhere about the old house. The enor- 
mous fire-places were never screened, but whitewashed 
as far up as could be seen, and filled with fresh-smelling 
evergreens, into which we children were pleased to min- 
gle the brilliant wild flowers gathered from the fields 
and woods in our daily walks. 

These changes in the home were accomplished with 
the utmost discrimination under Grandmother's quiet 
rule, for with a perfect understanding of the minds of 
men in general, and that of her own man in particular, 
she carefully avoided all appearance of evil in the form 
of Spring-cleaning, while silently and surreptitiously, 
with energy and dispatch, every detail of the great work 
was pursued to a thorough end. 

[17] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

Nature contributed munificently to the universal 
adornment, in bright sunshine, blue skies, and green 
grass, and the countless wild flowers which glorified our 
Southland. The broad plantations along the river were 
kept in a state of thorough cultivation, but the rolling 
woodlands in the rear were given over to luxuriant 
growth and brilliant bloom, forming a glowing back- 
ground for the brown acres of low ground sloping to 
the water's edge, where palmettoes and May-apples 
grew. Beautiful pond-lilies covered the surface of the 
shallow pools in their own curious way, and the green 
willows fringed the levee, forever dipping their long 
plume-like boughs into the flowing river, or lashing them- 
selves in mimic fury, as a passing steamboat sent the 
yellow waves rolling ashore. 

Violets, pansles and daisies, clover, dandelions and 
verbena, bluebells, oxalis, and bright-colored phlox cov- 
ered the face of the earth, while the stately goldenrod 
lifted its military plumes alongside hydrangeas, laurel, 
milkweed, and blood-red consumption flowers; alder, 
sumac and thistle grew in the corners of the crooked rail 
fence, and flowering vines and trees more conspicuously 
put forth their fragrance and beauty. Wild roses, grape- 
vines and honeysuckle, yellow jessamine, purple clematis, 
morning glories, and the gorgeous trumpet flower blos- 
somed everywhere, and the passion-vine ran wild, 
turning its purple flowers with their mystical crosses to 
the sun above the tall grass, and hiding the May-pops 
underneath, where they lay, telling their names as wc 
trod upon them in our eager search. We cut them into 
baskets and all manner of fancy shapes in their green 
gourd-like state, and ate them with forced relish as they 
ripened, yellow, shriveled and insipid. 

[18] 




THE RECTOR'S WIFE 



Penultima and Its People 

There grew the fringe-tree, sour-wood, and starry 
white dog-wood, the red bud, hawthorn, and the elegant 
magnolia with its shining leaves and great wax-like 
blossoms, so deathly white and sweet; the wild plum and 
cherry, and the exquisitely delicate violet-scented crab- 
apple. 

Many of these beautiful gifts of nature were in sea- 
son at Easter, and were carried in wagon-loads to the 
church, where they were placed in lavish profusion with 
roses, lilies, snowballs, spirea, almond, heliotropes and 
geraniums, from the gardens and hot-houses of the 
neighboring homes. The choice blossoms were arranged 
by loving, reverent hands among the candles on the 
white-draped altar, the prayer desk, pulpit and lectern, 
while others were piled in windows, twined around rail- 
ings, wreathed among pillars and banked high against 
the wall in jars of all sizes, whose unsightly appearance 
was concealed by moss and evergreens, all arranged so 
as to form miniature mountains, radiant with the fresh- 
ness and beauty of the woods and fields. When we had 
cleared away the rubbish, leaving all in readiness for 
Easter morning, we regarded the outcome of our efforts 
with deep satisfaction; and nograndcity cathedral, with 
its magnificent decorations of elaborately wrought flor- 
ist's designs, tall palms and costly hot-house flowers, 
was ever half so beautiful In our partial eyes as our own 
little brown church among the vines. 

One evening early in May, Grandfather came in late 
after a long ride over the plantation, called for Torm to 
take his tired horse, cast aside his hat, gloves and riding 
whip, and threw himself on the lounge in Grandmother's 
room. "Well, Miriam," he said, "I may now express 
my relief and thankfulness that the peril which threat- 
ened us is past; for weeks we have lived through the 

[19] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

days and slept through the nights, many feet below the 
level of the river, steadily rising and threatening every 
moment to break the levee. We have labored faithfully, 
strengthening weak points, watching day and night, and 
measuring the flood at intervals. Yesterday I scarcely 
dared trust my senses, or the assurances of the experi- 
enced men on the place, that the water was falling, having 
remained at a stand for several days. Now, there is a 
fall of two inches, and I feel that we are safe, unless we 
have a heavier rain than any we have had yet, which is 
hardly possible, and there is surely no appearance of 
it now." 

In the fullness of his relief. Grandfather retired 
early and slept the sleep of the just, undisturbed by the 
flashing lightning, the rising wind, or the cloudburst 
which descended upon us in the dead hour of the night. 
To this day, I look back upon that storm as the most 
awful in all my experience. Grandfather's words — 
" unless we have a heavier rain than any we have had 
yet," seemed to add fury to the thundering downpour, 
and I lay awake in the next room listening to his snoring, 
imagining the noise of the storm was the rushing of great 
waters let loose upon us, trembling and fearing, yet not 
daring to get up in the dark and call. 

Suddenly, at the dismal hour of four in the morning, 
the loud clang of the great plantation bell broke into the 
roar of the storm, continuing its rapid, startling sum- 
mons, and at the same time I heard a faint tap on the 
window, and the soft voice of Austin, the foreman, call- 
ing, " Marster! Marsterl For Gawd's sake, Marster, 
come ! De levee done broke, an' de water's runnin' 
'cross de turn row in de upper fiel' jes' dis side de gin! 
Oh, Gawd A'mighty ! Gawd A'mighty !" 

[20] 



Penultima and Its People 

"Austin! " sternly said Grandfather, who was at the 
window before the man had finished speaking. " Be a 
man — the people all look to you — tell Torm to get my 
horse — call Mr. Gunn — I'll be with you." 

And before I could collect my senses he was gone 
out into the night. I cried in terror, but Grandmother's 
firm voice and touch quieted me, and, following her 
example, I dressed quickly and went to call Reggie and 
the others. Before it was light the rain was over and 
the whole place in an uproar of excitement. 

Rousing Mammy, Grandmother left her in charge 
of the children, and Aunt Eunice, who was ill; and tak- 
ing Jane with her, went to the scene of the disaster to 
assure herself of Grandfather's safety. Almost imme- 
diately she found herself surrounded by her children, 
and the scene was far beyond my power to describe. 
You have all seen illustrations and heard accounts of 
floods, and I can only say they are not exaggerated. 

The break had occurred in a private levee, which 
had been hastily thrown up, as the unprecedented rise 
threatened a certain part of the place, and the entire 
force was engaged at this point, throwing on logs and 
filling in with earth here and there, but it was soon evi- 
dent that nothing could be accomplished. The stream 
crossing the road, which Austin had reported, increased 
in volume and velocity, at such an incredible rate, that 
Grandfather, after regarding the torrent for a moment, 
gave up all hope of his crop, and turned his attention to 
saving livestock and everything movable on the place. 

Deeply touched by the heroic efforts of the men to 
save his property, he turned to the overseer and said, 
"Call them in, Gunn. I will not have them exposed to 
this danger to their health, if not life." 

[21] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

"Why, Colonel! Why, sir," remonstrated the man, 

"a half hour's hard work may save part of " But 

with one indignant look. Grandfather urged his fright- 
ened horse a httle farther up the main levee, and himself 
sent such a shout of recall across the raging waters that 
not a man dared disobey, though in their ardor and 
excitement many of them would have gone recklessly on 
with their desperate task. 

Calling Mr. Gunn, who was not in sight when he 
returned, he gave some rapid orders about the work of 
saving, which admitted of no delay, and then said, " Re- 
member, sir, in future, nothing is of value to me, 
compared with the safety of my people. See that the 
men who have been at work all night are allowed to rest 
as soon as possible." 

There was little rest, however, for man or beast that 
day; a scene of the wildest confusion and excitement 
followed, when it was known that all hope of saving the 
place was over — Penultima was "going under" — a 
thing unknown to the oldest inhabitant. The women 
shouted and prayed, with screaming children clinging to 
their skirts, and even the strong men seemed paralyzed 
at the awful sight revealed by the light of approaching 
day. 

Streams of turbid, foaming water were rushing down 
upon the field from fresh breaks which followed each 
other in rapid succession, and stout indeed must have 
been the heart which could have regarded such a scene 
unmoved. Stout hearts we had among us, however, 
which were proven and found worthy that day. 

Among the negroes, as in all other classes, are to be 
found those born to rule; Grandfather recognized and 
singled out these characters, secured their attention, and 
in a few sentences, short and to the point, represented to 

[22] 



Penultima and Its People 

them that their safety and that of us all, depended upon 
their obedience and prompt action. They gathered 
around him, in their helplessness, trusting implicitly in 
his judgment, receiving his rapid, comprehensive orders, 
which they carried out to the letter, with the help of the 
weaker vessels, who gladly followed in their lead, reduc- 
ing the confusion to order, none too soon. 

The house, being on the highest point of the planta- 
tion, was considered safe temporarily, and Grandfather 
and Grandmother went together to the quarters to com- 
fort and reassure the old and sick and little children, 
and superintend their removal, with their bedding, 
clothing, cooking utensils, their chickens, and whatever 
could be hurriedly collected into wagons, to a part of 
the place situated in the hills, where Mr. Gunn, with a 
number of men, constructed, with the utmost haste, a 
very long, broad shed, with bunks along each side and 
a wide street through the center, called " The Camp." 

All was soon in readiness, and great was the relief 
when the procession moved off, carrying the helpless ones 
with loads of provisions, and all things necessary for 
their comfort. Mammy Judy and her wagon-load of 
babies bringing up the rear, with tins rattling, gourds 
bouncing, children screaming, and bright-colored bed 
quilts flapping in the wind. 

The animals were collected and carried to the hills 
in droves; astonished turkeys, chickens, ducks and geese 
were snatched from their roosting places, imprisoned In 
baskets, and carried off to the hills, their cackling and 
quacking mingling with the universal din. 

The work progressed in hot haste, and when the sun 
rose, warm and bright, bringing courage and hope to 
fainting hearts, the scene took on a more cheery aspect, 
the comical side coming more and more to the front. 

[23] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

"Lord, Marster," said Austin, "ain't dis er pity, 
ain't dis er pity! If dat levee jes' only had er hilt out 
two mo' days, us would er been all right! Nummine — 
I boun' I'll be ready fer de nex' overflow, mun, ef I has 
ter staht on dat levee no sooner en dis water go offen us. 
I lay hit ain't er gwine ter ketch me wid my breeches 
down [unprepared] no mo' 1 " 

Many were the ludicrous accidents, and shouts of 
laughter could be heard from these April-hearted chil- 
dren of Nature, as one after another would be jostled 
Into the water, or a refractory sow raised her rasping 
voice in indignant protest at being routed from her bed 
of soft mud and forced, against her will, into a place of 
safety, with her squealing babies. 

When Grandfather came in to dinner we were on a 
slowly diminishing island, and Mr. Gunn's house, on a 
smaller one, a half mile away, the hill, with the long 
shed and Innumerable camp fires showing In the distance. 
Grandfather said he still hoped the yard would not go 
under, and if It did, the water must rise several feet 
before It would enter the house, so we were not to leave 
home, much to our delight, and we had high hopes that 
we were to step out of the door Into the skiff, like others 
we read about, which hopes were fully realized by the 
next day, and for a time grave fears were entertained 
that the house would be flooded. We escaped that, but 
enjoyed the novelty of fishing from the galleries and 
rowing about the yard, and Into the garden and orchard 
for fresh fruits and vegetables. 

Hearing signs of distress In the nursery one morning, 
I looked in and saw Mammy with her apron over her 
head, rocking back and forth, and crying aloud, "Oh, 
what dat dey say! — de baby fall in de overflow! Oh, 
Lord ! Oh, Lord I How come I let dat chile go walkin' 

[24] 



Penultima and Its People 

wid dem gals?" meaning Dorothy and Cornelia. The 
levee was not yet under water entirely, our place being 
flooded from what we called backwater from the swamp, 
and a bridge of planks was laid from the highway on 
the levee to our steps, supported between by logs in the 
water. Similar walks were constructed to the kitchen, 
which was what you could call a half block from the. 
house, and other places in the yard, and one from the 
overseer's house to the levee. All too slight and insecure 
they proved, but when we were too weary of the house, 
we were allowed to walk on the highway, and Mammy 
had been persuaded to let Patty go. I tried to comfort 
her, but she was off before she could hear me, running 
like mad across the bridge, collecting an army of follow- 
ers in her flight, until she met Jane, coming to meet her 
with Patty safe and dry in her arms. ^^How come you 
all tell me dat? " she cried when she could find her voice. 
" Tell you what? " asked Jane ; " 'tain't nobody tole you 
nothin' but Gunn's chile fell off de plank I " Mammy's 
contemptuous ejaculations were unspellable, and seizing 
Patty, she turned back, but Cornelia came running up, 
calling, "Oh, Mammy, do give her to Jane, and go with 
me to help poor Mrs. Gunn. You know what to do 
better than I do." " 'Tain't nothin' ail her, I tell you. 
Missy, — dat chile done out de water gins' now — do 
her good, anyhow — nasty little so'-eyedpo' white folks! 
I gwine ter take Patty home, an' you better come, too — 
gittin' yer dress all draggled up fer nothin' I " 

" Better give Patty to me," said Torm, appearing on 
the scene and seeing Mammy's excited state of mind. 
"Git out er my way, nigger; 'tain't nobody gwine tech 
dis chile but me, — I don had skeer ernough. I notter 
gwine ter let her out er my sight no mo' — move, I tell 
yerl" And forgetting the caution that she constantly 

[25] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

impressed upon us, Mammy strode over the rickety 
bridge, becoming more nervous at each step. "O-o — e-e ! 
Don't walk so close berhine me, Torm! O-o — e-el" 
Splash! went the end of the plank off the rolling log, 
and down went our Mammy, yielding up the baby, and 
looking at Torm just in time to see him explode with 
laughter. All hands rushed to her assistance with gen- 
uine concern, but there was no real danger, the water 
being not nearly so deep and dark as Mammy's wrath, 
emphatically expressed, as, dripping dismally, she hur- 
ried out of sight around the side gallery. 

In about fifteen days, we were left high and dry, 
having sustained much less damage than many of our 
neighbors, and In a few weeks things were going on as 
before, and our overflow was a thing of the past. 



[26] 




CHAPTER II. 
A Visit to Melville Manor. 

THE country was closely settled with substantial 
old homes, costly, elegant mansions, and simple, 
comfortable dwellings, among whose Inmates 
friendships were Inherited along with the family silver. 
Honor, refinement and pride of birth held precedence 
among us ; wealth and display received no consideration 
whatever. Visits were of frequent or daily occurrence, 
when the weather was at all suitable, old and young 
coming and going, to call, spend a day or a morning, an 
afternoon or an evening, driving home eight or ten miles 
after tea. Social intercourse was cordial, affectionate 
and familiar, absolutely without form or ceremony, and 
yet the coming of "comp'ny" never failed to create a 
stir in the household. With flying feet and rolling eyes, 
the twins appeared In Grandmother's room, and each 
struggling to be first, they delivered themselves in one 
breath of the startling announcement: "H' yon come 
a ca'iage ! " Instantly Grandmother was on her feet, and 

[27] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

reducing her movements by an effort to almost, but not 
quite, their usual dignified composure, she approached 
the bureau, smoothed her soft hair, examined her fault- 
less collar critically in the mirror, and selected a clean 
handkerchief of suitable quality from her top drawer, 
issuing orders meanwhile : "Cely, call your Aunt Polly 
to me, and then run quickly and open the front gate. 
N^ncy, pick up my scissors and thimble, and wind up the 
thread on my spool; pick up all these scraps from the 
carpet and sweep the hearth; they will come in here to 
take off their bonnets if they are going to spend the day; 
be quick, now — where's Torm? Where is Torm?" 
" Here I is, Mistis," answered Torm, coming on the 
run, " Torm, open up the parlor and see if the fire needs 
more wood." " Polly," as Mammy hurried in, " is there 
any cake in the house? " " De law, Mistis, dem chillun 
done et up de las' er de cake I made yistiddy, but I kin 
make some er dem little thin tea cakes, nice an' hot, gins' 
dey gits set down good." "Well, do, Polly; open a 
bottle of muscadine wine and empty it into a decanter; 
get the silver waiter and some wine glasses, and small 
napkins, and have Torm hand it in." 

"Miranda," said Aunt Eunice, "wash Patty's face 
and hands and put a clean apron on her, and [in an 
undertone] do see that her nose is clean. Take the baby 
off; she's cross and sleepy." 

The girls came from their room, vainly endeavoring 
to subdue the rustle of fresh toilets, — all followed 
Grandmother to the front door,. Aunt Eunice holding 
clean, uncomfortable Patty with one hand, and some 
light sewing hastily picked up in the other, combining 
ease and cordiality in the welcoming smile. 

Only the breeze rustled the leaves on the drive. 
"Cely, hasn't the carriage come to the gate yet?" 

[28] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

" Ya-as'um" — waiting — smiling. "Why, where is the 
carriage?" "Hit done pass on by I" "Hi!" said 
Mammy, peering In at the back door. "Ain't dey no 
comp'ny come yit? " All was explained, and Cely duly 
condemned. 

"Mammy, did you make the cakes?" said little 
Patty. " De law bless de chile, dem cakes Is er burnin' ! " 
and Mammy rushed out, followed by Patty and the 
twins. "Git out er here, Cely! You allers up to sum- 
p'n! ril ketch you, madam, an' I lay I'll choke yo' 
tongue out, mun! Git out er dis kitchen!" But Cely 
feasted on scorched cakes with the others. She was the 
moving spirit of the two, receiving most of the notice, 
complimentary and otherwise, — Nancy being a quiet, 
gentle, dull little thing, whom everybody loved when 
they happened to think about her. 

The long, bright summer was a happy time at Penul- 
tlma. School was out, and with deep sighs of relief, we 
cast away our books and gave ourselves up to the varied 
pleasures of the season. Picnics were joyful occasions 
to us then; collecting crowds of children from all over 
the neighborhood, we would take our lunch and go after 
blackberries for jam, but Grandmother's supply would 
have fallen far short of the demands of her great family 
if It had not been for the servants she sent to take care 
of us, and to do the work, while we ate the lunch and 
played in the woods and fields. 

We had an abundance of fruit, and later in the season 
large baskets full were brought In and prepared in vari- 
ous ways for winter use. By the side of the path lead- 
ing to the wash-house were three wide-spreading apple 
trees, and in their shade could be seen a little crowd of 
women, working under Mammy's directions, peeling 
and cutting the fruit, and cooking It In large brass kettles, 

[29] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

placed on bricks over the fire. Quantities of It were dried 
on long scaffolds in the hot sun. 

Grandmother would walk out to them occasionally 
with some directions, and delight their hearts with a 
word of praise. 

Absent children brought their friends home for vaca- 
tion ; relatives and friends in the neighborhood came to 
welcome them, and our big house was headquarters. 
There were no special entertainments, but a continuation 
of breakfasts, dinners and teas, with riding, driving and 
boating, playing and dancing, and singing, between 
times. 

Grandfather and Grandmother had the reputation 
of being the most successful matchmakers in the country, 
which they stoutly denied, but the number of weddings 
following these seasons in the country was remarkable, 
and the boys did not fail to count them up, charging the 
old folks to be careful and leave to Heaven its proverbial 
duty of match-making. 

The long galleries were cool, the hammocks and 
rocking chairs Inviting, to say nothing of the deep, shady 
lawn, with its rustic seats here and there and everywhere 
— sometimes a smooth rock, a comfortable bend in the 
root of some enormous tree, or the long, soft, uncut 
grass. 

The summer is long in our Southland, but it was hard 
to realize that it was past and gone, as one by one the 
guests bethought themselves of duties set aside for Octo- 
ber. Reluctant were the farewells and quick the promises 
to come again next summer, or possibly Christmas. 

" Bring me my little shawl, Miriam," Grandmother 
would say. "Autumn is in the air, — we cannot sit on the 
gallery many more evenings, but the sunset is too beau- 
tiful to leave." And long after the others had left us 

[30] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

alone, she would sit with my head in her lap, her dear 
hands fondling my hair, and talk to me of my father 
and mother. 

"Grandmother," I said to her, " I heard Mr, Gunn 
say that my father was a leveler. He said the Colonel 
was mighty free with his money, and would do a poor 
man a good turn any time, when he got in trouble, but 
he had to reach down to do it; but young Donald was 
always right with z fellow, no matter how low down he 
got. He was a leveler/ Grandmother, I thought you 
would be angry I " " No, my darling, " she said ; " why 
should I be angry? That ignorant man paid your 
dear father the highest compliment within his under- 
standing. Donald was a true leveler. He was a noble- 
man after Nature's highest type; truth and charity 
emanated from his being, like rays from the sun; he 
indignantly repelled the idea of keeping the ignorant in 
their place, believing that their place should be elevated 
by earnest efforts of the more fortunate ; he chose for his 
friends those upon whom he could bestow benefits. When 
he was a little child, your Grandfather has said to me, 
'Miriam, can it be that our boy has low tastes?' and 
anxiously we watched his course, only to see that his 
nature was too pure to be contaminated." "Just like 
you 1 My dear, beautiful Grandmother ! " I cried, press- 
ing her hand to my face; and so Grandfather found us 
when he came for her, and together they took me in 
from the night, as they had taken me in from the cold 
world a few years before. 

Soon the evenings grew dark and chill, the sparkling 
fires tempted us within, — we gathered around the hearth, 
and the happy summer was over. With but a passing 
sigh of regret, we turned our thoughts to the future, 

[31] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

more bright and beautiful than the past in our youthful 
imagination. 

Twice a year, and oftener if occasion required, Grand- 
mother visited her mother at Melville Manor, forty 
miles inland from Penultima. Grandfather attended to 
the management of her place, as she was very old and 
lived with her invalid son and two maiden daughters, a 
helpless and dependent family. 

One morning near the end of October, I started up 
from a sound sleep with a vague feeling that something 
new and delightful was going to happen. What was it? 
What was the meaning of the hurried footsteps, resound- 
ing voices and general bustle and preparation? Why 
was Rachel, one of the younger maids, standing at my 
bedside with a candle in her hand, calling me to " Wake 
up, Missy ! Hit's time ter git up " — at this hour of the 
night — or could it be morning? Where was Mammy? 
Where was Jane? "Mammy gittin' ready, an' Aun' 
Jane waitin' on Mistis. I wisht I was gwine wid yo'all," 
said Rachel. Finally it dawned upon me that we were 
going on a journey to Melville Manor. I was always 
Grandmother's companion, and this time Reggie and 
Donald were to go, too, much to my joy, and their own. 

We went by private conveyance, and to accomplish 
the trip In one day, and have time for a long rest at 
dinner-time, we must start very early, and the boys and 
I were dressed and out betimes, in a perfect flutter of 
delight at the novelty of eating breakfast by candle 
light, watching the lanterns moving about the lot, and 
the carriage and buggy brought to the door in the grey 
dawn. The trunk was strapped on behind the carriage, 
carpetbags, baskets and bundles stowed away, and as 
the big, round, closely covered cheese-box of lunch was 
put under the seat, I looked at the boys, and they eyed 

[32] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

the box, and silently we congratulated each other upon 
the tempting prospect. 

At last we were off, well wrapped up, the horses 
prancing In the chilly morning air; Grandfather taking 
the lead, with Grandmother In his buggy, and Uncle 
Rock driving the carriage with Mammy and ourselves, 
the boys taking turns riding outside with him. Our way 
led along the river road for the first four miles, when we 
turned abruptly to the hill country, almost encircling and 
keeping in view for many miles, La Vega, the home of 
Uncle Stuart McNeill, Grandfather's younger brother 
and our family doctor. The long, low buildings, with 
their broad latticed verandas and open colonnades, were 
scattered over three low-lying green hills a mile from 
the river, and showed up well against a rising, wooded 
background, the whole being conspicuous from the exten- 
sive, well-kept gardens, brilliant and beautiful for the 
greater part of the year. 

Then we passed into the forest, beautiful beyond 
description in the October weather, over steep hills where 
we were glad to jump out and walk to relieve the tired 
horses; through plantations, and two villages or cross- 
roads, each with its post office, a dwelling or two, and a 
store, with a string of tin cups over the door, bunches of 
brooms tied together so they would stand alone, jars of 
red and white candy in the windows, and a man patiently 
waiting for customers. Then we came to Black River, a 
small stream scarcely worthy of so dignified a name, but 
which must be crossed on a ferry boat, and driving down 
the steep bank to the water's edge. Uncle Rock got out 
and, making a trumpet of his hands, he shouted like 
this, — "E — who — e — e — e!" He had to repeat his 
call several times before Mr. McNemara, the sleepy 
boatman, appeared in the door of his shanty on the other 



When I Was a Little Girl 

shore, running his thumb under his one " gallus " and 
cramming his torn hat down to his eyes. 

He stepped down the steep bank, unwinding a chain 
which held the flatboat to a stob driven deep into the 
mud, jumped aboard and pulled over to us by a rope 
stretched across the stream, which was low and narrow 
at this season. Fastening the chain to a stob on our side, 
he signified without a word that he was ready. We all 
got out of the carriage, and Uncle Rock drove the horses 
carefully on, was pulled across, and the boat, returning, 
carried over the buggy and horse, and all of us except 
Mammy, who always insisted upon going " when Rock 
went." Ever since her adventure in our overflow she 
was " skeered o' water," and did not enjoy the ferry as 
the rest of us did. 

We were delighted when we had what the boatman 
called long ferriage in the spring, which, being double 
price, came early and remained late in the season. Silently 
he collected the toll, remembering his manners and 
Grandmother's presence, jerking off his hat when Grand- 
father dropped a cigar into his hand. 

"Well, Rock," said Grandfather, " do you think we 
can make it to Grapevine Spring by twelve or half-past ?" 
" Yes, sir, I'll try f er it," said Uncle Rock. " Dese chil- 
lun is er gittin' rampageous in here. Git ap, Jim and 
Brooklin ! Ye mout es well have yer dinner and a drink 
yerse'f." 

" Keep still, chillun," said Mammy. ** I hope to de 
Lawd Mistis will git in here herse'f after dinner an' put 
one er two er you in de buggy ; y'all done lee — ter — mo — 
ter was'e all my patience — git off er me! Hi I dere's 
de ole apple tree in de fiel' whar we gits apples every 
year, an' hit's full now — stop. Rock, an' let de chillun 
out." " Oh, I ain't got no time to be foolin' wid apples," 

[34] 




THE FAMILY DOCTOR 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

said Uncle Rock; "ain't ye got 'nuff t' eat in de box? 
Dey ain't none o' your apples, nohow — Whoa I " And 
we relieved Mammy of our restless presence for a few 
minutes, and came back loaded with mellow fruit, which 
kept us quiet for a time. But it was growing very warm ; 
we were cramped and tired, and pretty soon Uncle Rock 
turned out into the woods where there was not a sign of 
a road, and down a short hill, suddenly coming in sight 
of the Grapevine Spring, numberless rills, flowing 
through crevices in the large, moss-covered rocks, which 
surrounded, and almost concealed, the spring, forming a 
charming little rivulet, running and gurgling over rocks 
and pebbles, delightfully cool and inviting, in the dense 
shade afforded by the great trees, supporting vines fes- 
tooned from one to another, and bearing long clusters 
of the fruit from which the place took its name. We 
gladly got out of the carriage, and ran about the beauti- 
ful spot, quiet and secluded from the passerby; rabbits 
scurried here and there, and pretty gray squirrels waved 
their fluffy tails over their backs as, all unafraid and 
undisturbed, they pattered over the bright leaves, and 
raced up the tall trees, leaping among the branches, and 
swinging in the vines, as they looked quizzically down at 
us before darting into their holes to store, far out of 
harm's way, the cherished nuts, carefully collected for 
winter's use. 

Uncle Rock unhitched the horses — Jim and Brook- 
lin and Billy — gathered handfuls of hanging moss and 
rubbed them down carefully before he would let them 
have a drink, though they begged for it when they saw 
the tin bucket, rubbing their noses against him, and 
almost talking. " No, boys, not yit," he would say. 
"Ain't I done tell ye 'fore now, ye can't git no water 
while ye so hot? Keep quiet now and git cool while I 

[35] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

fix yer dinner, — wait, I tell ye! I'm er comin'. Dar, 
now, come up ter dis trough — dat is ter say, dis rock, — 
Hi, dere ! not dat er way ! Ye mus' think ye gwine ter 
eat wid yer mistis — Come here to me — now! here's 
yer fodder — here's yer corn. What, — ye won't eat? 
Jes' can't do it twel ye wet yer throats — Well, I'll hat- 
ter give ye a little bit — jes' a half a bucket apiece, to 
wash de dus' out yer throats. Hi, dere, Jim I Keep yer 
mouf out er Brooks' bucket — you allers would do dat — 
you's a mean boss ! Now, I reckon yer kin eat, dat's hit. 
Now, I'll go help Polly." 

But we were not waiting for him. Mammy opened 
the cheese box and instantly I was plunged from this 
pinnacle of hope into the depths of grief and despair, as 
the certainty forced itself upon me that I had forgotten 
and left hanging upon the curtain rest in Grandmother's 
room, my dear httle toy carpet-bag, its sides bulging and 
flap buttoned by such hard pulling, over the lunch I had 
prepared with such delightto surprise the boys I Oh, those 
hard-boiled guinea eggs — three of them ! — the smallest, 
cutest things! — the biscuit and tea cakes cut out with 
Grandmother's thimble! — that molasses candy which 
Nervy said would be the whitest I had ever made if I 
would let her give it one good, hard pull for me, which I 
did, and she drew it out into long ropes, which she 
plaited and twisted and curlecued most beautifully; the 
little boxes of nuts, picked out with such labor and pains, 
and such terror of being discovered. My lamentations 
would not be repressed by the loving sympathy I received, 
but the base, ungrateful ridicule of the boys excited deep- 
est satisfaction when I considered the loss they had 
sustained, and drying my tears, I answered Mammy's call 
for help. Prancing with delight, we gathered dry twigs 
and bark, and soon the camp fire was burning brightly ; 

[36] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

the coffee pot was filled from the spring and set upon its 
trivet made of three rocks placed at the proper distances 
apart near the fire, and spreading a white cloth over 
some rocks and partly on the grass, Mammy set forth a 
feast which would have made you wonder if that box 
was enchanted. Ham and corn drop-cakes, broiled 
chickens and beaten biscuit, hard-boiled eggs, cheese and 
pickle, apple crab-lanterns and tea cakes. "Rock, git me 
a nice forked switch and sharpen de en's," she said. 
" You know Mistis don't love ham br'iled on de coals." 
Dinner being over. Mammy took the carriage cush- 
ions, which had served as seats arranged around our 
rustic table, and selecting a warm, dry spot where the 
pine needles were knee-deep under a bright covering of 
autumn leaves, drifted high against the rocks, she formed 
a sleepy hollow where she said " Mistis could res' same 
as ef she was in her feather bed in de house." Calling 
us to bring her things from the carriage, Grandfather 
retouched her couch here and there with his own hands, 
drew the plaid shawl over her shoulders and placed the 
traveling pillow, with its brown linen case, under her 
head; then, refusing her offer of one of her cushions, he 
placed himself against the great rock beside her, lighted 
a cigar, and opening his new Harper's, he proceeded to 
rest and enjoy life, and we left them and sought amuse- 
ment in our own way. " Uncle Rock," said Donald, 
"are the grapes ripe?" "Law, yes, chile, dey ripe dis 
time er year," said he, "but I dunno how ye gwine ter 
git 'em — dey dat high." " Why, Uncle Rock, can't you 
climb the tree ? " innocently asked the little boy. " Now, 
jes' listen at dat ! " and leaning over, the old man placed 
both hands carefully on his knees and laughed in his 
slow, peculiar way, until Donald thought he would never 
stop. " Hi, chile, I ain't been up a tree sense yer ma wus 

[37] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

born," he said, when he could speak. " I reck'n yo'all 
hatter git dem grapes yerse'f." And leading Jim up to 
the vine, he placed the boy on his broad back, where, 
standing firmly and grasping the vine in one hand, 
Donald gathered quantities of the purple bunches, and 
rode in triumph back to the spring, with Uncle Rock 
leading the horse. 

Seeing Reggie in the water, with his trousers rolled 
above his knees, he promptly threw his grapes Into 
Mammy's white apron and followed suit, walking care- 
fully over the sharp pebbles. 

" Oh, Grandmother I " I cried, running up the bank. 
" May I wade with the boys? " But the old folks were 
sleeping too peacefully to be disturbed, and feeling that 
I had done my best to get permission, I took off my shoes 
and stockings, and in I plunged, white ruffled pantalettes 
and all. My enjoyment consisted principally in being 
able to do whatever the boys did, and I was not sorry 
when we were called out to get ready to go. 

How it was that the old darkies could wake up just 
when they wanted to, is a mystery to me to this day, but 
Uncle Rock, with his head bowed, his hands clasping his 
knees and holding fast to his hat, seemed to be sleeping 
soundly, but when two hours' nooning were over, he was 
up and putting the horses to the carriage. 

" Marster," said he, " ef you 'lows ter git ter ole 
Mistis' house gins' dark, hit's time us wus a-movin'." 

Reluctantly we made ready and were soon creaking 
on our way once more, enthusiasm and dinner all gone, 
and a warm, dusty way before us. But we changed 
about now, both of the boys going in the buggy, and 
Grandmother, taking a seat in the carriage, much to 
Mammy's relief, and my delight, beguiled the weary 
hours with stories of her childhood and what we would 

[38] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

see at Melville Manor, — and then — "Wake up, little 
daughter ! Here we are," and it was night, and bright 
light streamed through the open door from a candle 
held high in both hands of Uncle Johnnie, the butler, a 
dapper little man, with white hair and apron, a soft 
voice and noiseless footsteps, who alone, to my surprise, 
received us at the door. At Penultima the butler's serv- 
ice would have been uncalled for, as every member of 
the family would have been on the steps, " rain or snow, 
hail or blow," with noisy welcome for the traveller. 

But at Melville Manor a hush seemed to fall upon 
us as we entered. Uncle Johnnie placed the light on a 
table, and stepping quickly, he carefully closed the door, 
and then timidly folded and unfolded his small hands, 
until they were warmly grasped by both Grandfather 
and Grandmother in a hearty, hasty greeting, when, 
trembling with delight, the dear old man ushered us all 
into the sitting-room, where the gentle welcome, though 
it awed us into silence, seemed to satisfy our elders. 

Grandmother Melville, in a cap of sheerest white 
muslin, with a box-pleated border of fine old lace falling 
lightly over her gray hair, and a kerchief of soft black 
silk folded on her bosom, occupied an easy chair — she 
never sat in a rocker — in the warmest corner, for it 
was cool again in the evening, and as the bright firelight 
flashed upon her square breastpin, enclosing its single 
lock of gray hair, and enormous gold-bound spectacles, 
I caught the gleam of tears, and whispered to Grand- 
mother, "Oh, is she sorry we have come?" But she 
only held her close, and Uncle Howard called us to his 
seat opposite, where he and the Aunties welcomed us. 
Grandfather was splendid as he passed from one to 
another, and finally seated himself by the old mother's 
side, asking affectionately after the welfare of herself 

[39] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

and family. Grandmother's face was a picture of love- 
liness in her joy at this reunion with mother, brother 
and sisters in her old home. Soon she was called from 
the room to see some of the old servants, — the aunties 
resumed their seats and the gentle, well-mannered little 
buzz occasioned by our arrival subsided. 

I looked around the large, old-fashioned room, with 
its low ceiling and dead white walls, hung with old por- 
traits of stout, comfortable-looking gentlemen, with 
ruffled fronts and tremendous stocks, and slender, meek- 
looking ladies, with smooth hair and long hands and 
sharp-pointed bodices. Opposite the door was the 
fireplace, with its tall andirons, heavy shovel and tongs, 
and broad fender, the latter standing on six feet, of the 
lion's claw pattern, in which the toenails were distinctly 
marked, all of brightest brass, reflecting the firelight 
and sending it dancing with the utmost temerity and un- 
seemly merriment over the old high-backed sofas which 
sternly faced each other from opposite sides of the room, 
planting their ponderous feet into the dark, large-figured 
carpet, in all the dignity of age, polished mahogany, and 
treacherous, forbidding hair-cloth ; the six chairs of the 
same material which stood in a row at measured dis- 
tances — three on each side of the door — and the round 
table which occupied the middle of the room, and held 
two candles in tall silver candlesticks, and four piles of 
books arranged so as to form a perfect square. 

On the high, black mantel was a set of brass can- 
delabra, with dangling, rainbow-hued prisms, which I 
thought the most wonderfully beautiful things I had ever 
seen, a double one exactly in the center, and smaller ones 
on each end; In the spaces between were most exquisite 
vases of rare old painted china. All stiff and uncompro- 
mising, but home and contentment for the quiet inmates, 

[40] 




GRANDMA MELVILLE 



A Vint to Melville Manor 

who would have considered a change in the position of 
a chair an unwelcome innovation. Out in the hall stood 
the tall old clock, towering far above Grandfather's 
head, with its white face and long hands, its picture of 
the moon in all its phases, and its fearsome inscription, 
" Time cuts down all, both great and small," ground in 
a semicircle in large letters in the glass door, which was 
large enough for Donald to step in. Uncle Johnnie had 
to stand on a chair to wind it up with a great clumsy key. 

"Well, Mother Melville," said Grandfather, "how 
do you think Miriam is looking? Here she comes," 
and rising, he led her to her mother. " Isn't she as fine 
now, at fifty, as she was when you gave her to me, more 
than thirty years ago ? " 

"Well, son Donald," said Great Grandmother, "I 
will say I am pleased with Miriam's looks, and her 
establishment in life. You have done a good part by her." 

Grandmother laughed, as he gravely bowed his 
acknowledgments of the compliment which she said he 
invited. 

It was Grandfather's expressed wish that his wife 
should always be well dressed, and with her elegant 
form attired in a handsome, stylish traveling suit, her 
beautiful hair arranged after the fashion of the day, 
and her brilliant personality, she presented a striking 
contrast to her sisters, none the less dainty and delicate, 
but so severely simple in their clinging frocks of soft 
black wool, white kerchiefs meekly crossed in front and 
hair evenly parted and smoothly brushed, and decorated 
with high-top combs of delicately-carved and polished 
tortoise shell. 

The door opened just wide enough to admit Uncle 
Johnnie's anxious face, and Aunt America hurried out 
to " 'xamine de table." In a few minutes we were called 

[41] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

to tea, a very substantial meal in consideration of trav- 
ellers' appetites, and served in the daintiest way in china 
of dark, somber blue, with knives and three-pronged 
forks of polished steel with ivory handles, and spoons 
with slender stems of a most extraordinary length, and 
bowls whose diminutive size was most tantalizing as a 
means of gratifying the hearty desires created in view 
of the bounties spread before us, though to measure a 
dose of bitters they would have been just the thing. 
Candles in brass candlesticks, under tall shades of clear- 
est cut-glass, lighted and adorned the spotless table. 

After tea, Mammy took us upstairs to the room 
which had been Grandmother's from the time she was 
first grown, and Mammy, a young girl herself, had slept 
on a pallet on the floor, to be near her young mistress. 
The room was low and the ceiling sloped down on each 
side; the floor was bare and polished, with bright rugs 
here and there. The bed was so high that we could not 
see up on it, until Mammy showed us the steps covered 
with carpet which were used to chmb to bed ! It had a 
decorated tester supported upon elaborately carved 
posts, and was closely curtained all around. The bureau 
was rounded in front, and the drawers were furnished 
with heavy brass handles. It stood upon very long legs, 
which extended all the way to the high top, and were 
carved to match the bed-posts. A tiny little glass, swing- 
ing on a curious cablnetof drawers, with miniature brass 
handles, was placed on top. 

"Are we all going to sleep in one bed. Mammy? " I 
asked. But she raised the white fringed counterpane, 
which hung down to the floor, and pulled out a trundle 
bed for me, and said the boys were to sleep in one just 
like it in Uncle Howard's room, opposite. 

[42] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

I lay awake a long time, having slept in the carriage 
in the afternoon, watching the shadows on the wall, and 
trying to imagine Grandmother looking like that picture 
hanging above the high mantel, of a school-girl, with 
long hair plaited down her back, a very short dress, and 
very long pantalettes. 

Great Grandmother always washed the silver and 
glasses, and the delicate cups and saucers at the table, 
and I watched very curiously next morning after break- 
fast, as Uncle Johnnie made the large preparations for 
the small job. First a small, low table was placed beside 
her, with the cedar noggin filled with very hot water; a 
bowl on a waiter before her held the first water to 
remove the grease. Two mops, made of coarse home- 
spun thread, soap and clean towels were brought, and 
the washing and rinsing and polishing soon left a glitter- 
ing array for Uncle Johnnie to dispose of. 

Aunt America bustled about the kitchen, storeroom, 
smokehouse and dairy. Aunt Ann was busy at some- 
thing better suited to her strength, or want of strength, 
and Grandmother tried to keep up with all at once, 
questioning, suggesting, and interested in everything. 

Grandfather took Uncle Howard for a long drive 
about the place, suggesting changes, and improvements, 
and making plans for their comfort and convenience 
during the coming winter. 

Scaly barks did not grow on the river, and wishing 
to secure a supply from the abundance at Melville Manor 
to take home with us, the boys and I "took to the woods." 
Grandmother went with us as far as the quarters, to 
see Aunt Phillis, Uncle Rock's mother, who was very 
old and helpless, but always wanted to see Miss Miriam 
and her children, and she was never neglected. Finding 
a safe guide and a gang of little companions with baskets 

[43] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

for the nuts, she sent us on our way, returning to the 
house herself, where we followed in a few hours, laden 
with nuts, grapes, persimmons, paw-paws, black haws, 
muscadines, brilliant autumn leaves, and buckeyes. Feel- 
ing lost without Mammy, we searched and found her in 
the loom-house, superintending the work of cutting and 
making winter clothing for the negroes. Every available 
seamstress on the place was called to " de great house," 
and well I remember the busy scene. 

Aunt Merea, seated on a high bench in front of the 
great loom, sent her shuttle flying with a rhythmic click- 
ety-bang-bang, to a running accompaniment of whirring 
spinning wheels, and the clock reel, which never failed 
to give me a start, though I was on the lookout for the 
loud snap, which indicated that one cut had been wound. 
Mammy stood at a long table, piled with bolts of goods, 
wielding an enormous, dangerous-looking pair of shears, 
with which she rapidly reduced the confusion to order, 
in the shape of a row of neat bundles, which must be 
marked with the name of the proposed wearer, and then 
turned over to the group of white-clad women, who sur- 
rounded her, and formed her corps of able assistants. 
Steel thimbles with open ends, enormous needles, balls 
of coarse thread, and lumps of yellow bees-wax were 
distributed, and they set to work in earnest, occasionally 
appealing to "Sis' Polly" for advice, which was deliv- 
ered with the condescending, but kindly, manner always 
employed by house servants towards " de fiel' ban's." 

Life at Melville Manor must have been very dull 
and monotonous, but the month we spent there was full 
of happiness for old and young. We did not rush through 
life as you do these days, and Grandfather, after attend- 
ing to the gathering and disposing of the crops, repairing 
buildings and fences, and setting the plantation to rights, 

[44] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

as he did with such interest and energy, had plenty of 
time each day to devote to social enjoyment. Being so 
much out in the world among men and things, he intro- 
duced an element of life into the quiet family, like fresh 
air into a close room, and they looked for these visits as 
events in their lives. With Grandmother, he received 
and visited the friends of thirty years before, when as a 
young man he lingered around the old manor, which, 
being the home of three young ladies, was bright and 
gay enough then, and sheltered the charm and hope of 
his life. 

Uncle Rock and Mammy were happy in being 
restored to the home, family and friends of their child- 
hood and young days, and being relieved from the daily 
routine of work, though they made themselves useful in 
many ways. 

The beautiful weather continued late in the season, 
and we children made the most of our holiday, spending 
the greater part of the days in the woods. Each hour 
possessed its own peculiar charm, but I recall the long 
evenings, passed with our elders and listening to their 
talk of old times, with the keenest delight. I never could 
endure the much-poetized " twilight hour," and watched 
Uncle Johnnie's preparations for the evening with deep 
satisfaction. He came with never-failing regularity, 
and taking the tongs, he pulled the sticks forward on the 
andirons, and stirred the red-hot coals, sending millions 
and millions of sparks rolling and snapping in a tumultu- 
ous uproar, far into the black depths of the great old 
fireplace, a brilliant display, we never tired of watching; 
then he hurried out, leaving the door ajar, and quickly 
returned with the big "back-log," which he placed care- 
fully in position, followed it up with many smaller ones, 
and then drawing out the chunks with the tongs, he laid 

[45] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

them on top of the great pile, talking care never to 
reverse the ends, which was bad luck, — they must burn 
to ashes in as nearly as possible the same position in 
which they were first placed upon the fire. Then he 
swept, and swept, 2.n6. swept, until the unoffending ashes, 
flying in the slight draught, as though vainly endeavor- 
ing to elude his pursuing broom, were driven far back of 
the andirons, — then, and not until then, he replaced the 
broom and, folding his hands in a manner altogether 
peculiar to himself, he glanced around the room. 

" Let us have the candles, Johnnie," Uncle Howard 
would say, and then the magazine and the paper were 
produced, read aloud and discussed. Aunt Ann got out 
her knitting, and Grandma came in after her nap. 

" Oh, Aunt Ann ! " I said one evening, " please teach 
me to knit. I want to knit Mammy a pair of gloves." 
"Yes, darling, I will," she said, "but you must make 
something simpler before you undertake to widen and 
narrow and rib. How about some suspenders, or a 
blanket for your kitten ? " "A blanket for Glossy I Oh, 
yes I I'll try that I " I said, and ran to find a ball of red 
yarn and some needles. " Glossy is yellow, and how 
beautiful a red blanklet will look on herl" Dear 
Auntie! — how she laughed at my enthusiasm, and 
helped and encouraged me, picking up dropped stitches 
and knitting off the needle, which would become almost 
immovably fixed by my tight, irregular work. By 
repeated efforts I completed a square of six inches, 
soiled and streaked with rust from the long-neglected 
steel needles, but Glossy had grown to be a big cat, and 
scorned her blanket. I loved to sit on the little green 
stool at her feet and work, and to relieve the monotony 
of knitting, she cut out of stout, fine linen, home-spun 
and home-woven, a rag doll, basting and fitting the parts 

[46] 



A Visit to Melville Manor 

as carefully as she would have done a dress for the 
queen, — else how could she teach me to be careful, she 
said, and I stitched and turned and stuffed, with delighted 
interest and much help, until Miss Thusa stood on her 
feet with assistance, in a pair of blue knitted stockings, 
cloth gaiters, a dark calico dress and a yellow calico sun- 
bonnet, which well became her calm, white face. Aunt 
Ann made sets of clothes for her and packed them in a 
prune box with a glass top, under which was pasted a 
bright picture. She had night-gowns and ruffled night- 
caps which I had much trouble in tying under her 
receding chin. Owing to her strong constitution and 
firm, well-regulated character. Miss Thusa was able to 
resist such vicissitudes as the cat, the dog, and the boy; 
suffered alternations of neglect and attention, starva- 
tion and overfeeding, exposure and close confinement, 
endured life among us for many years, and contem- 
plated, untouched, the rise and fall of many generations 
of her kind. 

Grandma made housewives, or " hussifs," as they 
were called for short, — a strip of ribbon, silk, or other 
material, eighteen inches long and four inches wide, 
rounded at the top and square at the bottom, covered 
with pockets, the lower one being quite full, so as to 
hold a spool of thread, a thimble, a ball of darning 
cotton, and a piece of wax; the others for papers of 
needles, skeins of sewing silk, bunches of bobbin and 
braid, and such odds and ends as collect and litter one's 
work basket. The whole was finished with a narrow 
binding, a few flannel leaves, neatly rounded and notched, 
tacked across the bottom for needles and pins, and a 
half-yard of narrow ribbon folded in the middle and 
tacked to the top, to tie around it when it was rolled up. 
Every known member of the family was supplied with a 
hussif, and yet the supply seemed unequal to the demand. 

[47] 




CHAPTER III. 
Stories Grandma Told. 

Ik S she sewed, Grandma became reminiscent and 
A^ told us stories, often suggested by the materials 
**" "^ she used, which were saved for years, some- 
times, until they met their match. " Miriam," she said 
to Grandmother one evening, "your description of the 
overflow last spring put me in mind of the time your 
father and I were lost in the high water, soon after we 
came from Virginia — let me see — that was more than 
sixty years ago." Instantly six eyes were fastened upon 
her, for we were as eager for stories then as you are 
now, and Grandmother laughed and said, "Now, 
Mother, you are getting yourself into trouble." But 
Grandma said, " Oh, my time is not very valuable now; 
I can afford to give it to them the Httle while they are 
with me." And, thus invited, we gathered around her. 
" Yes, it was more than sixty years ago," she began, 
" long before your Grandmother was born. It was a 
very sickly season and your Great Grandfather was just 

[49] 



Wheri I Was a Little Girl 

recovering from a long, serious attack of fever, when 
we heard that his brother's wife was at the point of 
death, over in the swamp. The waters were up, every- 
where, and it was a great undertaking to go even a few 
miles, especially in his weak state, but my husband was 
not to be dissuaded from his purpose, and go to Sister 
Sarah he would, or die trying, he said. Of course, I 
went with him, and we thought once that we would all 
'die trying.' We had to go in the carriage from here 
to the river, which was out of its banks and extended all 
through the low country. We expected to cross the 
water in two or three hours, and thinking the worst of 
the trip was over when we had accomplished the drive 
of eighteen miles, I made my husband comfortable with 
a large shawl and pillows, arranging the seats in the 
skiff, so he could lie down, and with a small bottle of 
wine and few wafers to refresh him on the way, we 
pulled out, expecting to dine at your Uncle's. 

" It required many days to hear from them, in the 
existing state of the country, and we were very anxious, 
wondering if we would find Sister Sarah living. It 
looked very strange, going in a boat all among the trees 
and woods, but the guide laughed at my fears, saying 
that he had been over to the hills on the other side, and 
back, until he knew his way in the water as well as on 
the dry road. ' But how can you? ' I asked. ' Water is 
all alike.' ' You see, Mistis,' he said, ' I blazes my way; 
I cuts chips out de trees.' ' I don't see any cuts,' I said, 
doubtfully. ' No, ma'am, not yit, but you'll see my 
blazes atter while, — I knows de way 'long here.' ' Don't 
croak, Dorothy,' said my husband; 'I think this is 
delightful, — so much pleasanter than jolting in the car- 
riage; I feel better already; Dangerfield knows the way.' 
Dangerfield! What an ominous name, I thought, but I 

[50] 



Stories Grandma Told 

cheered up, and looked about me, enjoying the novelty. 
My husband slept for a long time, and the guide rowed 
and said not a word. It grew dark and chill, and my 
spirits fell. * Is night coming on? ' I said, when I could 
stand it no longer. ' Oh, no, ma'am, hit's jes' dark in de 
woods,' said Dangerfield. ' We'll git dar to'reckly. You 
see dat openin' in de woods ahead?' But we went on, 
and on, and no opening appeared; and, watching the 
man's face, I could see that he was anxious and trying to 
appear unconcerned. 

"I called my husband, fearing he would take cold, 
and gave him wine and wafers. I could see that he was 
startled when he looked at his watch. ' Dangerfield, we 
ought to be almost there,' he said ; ' where are we now ? ' 
'God knows, Marster, for I don't,' said the negro, drop- 
ping his oars. ' De water done riz 'bove my blazes an' 
I dunno whar we is !' 

" We had been hoping against hope, and all gave up 
at once. It was growing very dark, and becoming entan- 
gled in the growth, we came to a stop. Catching the 
vines in his hands as he stood up in the boat, my husband 
endeavored to help Dangerfield pull through where he 
could not use the oars, and in doing so dislodged a snake, 
which fell at my feet! It was the 'last straw,' and I 
gave up all control of self and screamed and cried 
aloud. I was very silly, and am ashamed of my behavior 
to this day, but then and there your Grandfather showed 
what he was. He took me in his arms and soothed me 
as a mother would, calling me by every endearing name, 
unjustly reproaching himself for bringing me into such 
danger, and encouraging me to hope for deliverance. I 
think my playing the baby did old Dangerfield good. 
He took up his oars and pulled with a will, begging me 
not to cry. ' We 'bleeged ter git jowe-whar,' he said. 

[51] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

But for three days and nights, children, we travelled 
around in a circle, with nothing to eat and suffering 
from the cold. 

"As hope died within my heart, I became perfectly 
calm, and taking our handkerchiefs from our pockets, I 
tied them as conspicuously as possible around our necks, 
in order that we might be identified by the names dis- 
tinctly marked on each; and, feeling that there was 
nothing more for me to do, I nestled close into my 
husband's arms and prayed to be taken first, that I might 
not see him suffer and die. 

"As night approached, our dreadful situation became 
appalling. Frogs croaked, owls hooted in the most 
dismal way, and alligators came out on logs and flapped 
their tails and opened their huge jaws almost in our 
faces. Out of the darkness on all sides came the most 
frightful cries of animals more or less vicious, we did 
not know. I crouched in the bottom of the boat in 
abject terror, and my husband ordered Dangerfield to 
pull up on one of the ridges which we often encountered, 
not more than four or five feet wide, and build a fire, 
hoping to keep wild beasts at a distance. Being a great 
smoker, he was supplied with matches, and splitting 
pieces from one of the seats in our boat to kindle with, 
we soon had an enormous fire of logs and branches. 
The light brought fiery, glaring eyeballs into view from 
all directions, adding horror to my fright, but Danger- 
field said they always looked so when there was a light 
in the woods at night. 

" We kept up the fire until daylight, and when the 
sun rose bright and clear, we saw a column of smoke, in 
which we recognized our salvation. We all broke down 
and cried aloud, falling on our knees together, and 
thanking God. 

[52] 



Stories Grandma Told 

" With weak arms, but strengthened hearts, we made 
our way towards that smoke, even / trying to help pull 
with my hands against trees and vines. My husband 
was well-nigh exhausted when we came in sight of a 
house, which proved to be the home of one of your 
Uncle's neighbors, and we barely succeeded in letting it 
be known that we were in distress, before we all col- 
lapsed and had to be carried into the house, where we 
met with untold kindness and attention; in fact, we 
would have been killed with kindness in the shape of too 
much food, but for the interference of a young doctor, 
providentially detained in the house, who carefully and 
skillfully directed the proper treatment and brought us 
back to life by degrees. We learned of Sister Sarah's 
recovery, and our brother came to us immediately and 
took us to his home as soon as we were able to be 
moved." 

" I think that is finer than any story book I ever 
read," said Donald, "but Grandmother says you know 
about real Indians — fighting Indians, I mean; I think 
she said you had seen them, and — Oh, Grandma, won't 
you tell us about them?" And Donald looked fear- 
fully at the door as it slowly opened, but It was only 
peace-loving Uncle Johnnie, and Aunt America said 
supper was getting cold, but Grandma promised that 
she would think of something for the boys before the 
rvtxt evening. 

" Nancy," she said, when the time came, " do try to 
think of something for me to tell the children." Dear 
Aunt Ann was always interested in anything to give us 
pleasure, and declared that she knew of nothing which 
we would 6njoy so much as an account of Grandma's 
journey out to this country from Virginia, many years 

[53] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

ago. *' That story has Indians in it," she whispered to 
the boys. 

" Well, children," said Grandma, " your Aunties and 
your Grandmother have heard about my home-coming 
until they are tired of it, so you come here to me, and 
let them all sit over on that side of the fire and talk to 
the gentlemen." Gladly we pressed close to her side, 
and in a low, confidential voice, intended only for our 
ears, she began : 

"We came here to Melville Manor soon after we 
were married, and that was when I was fifteen, — sixty- 
five years ago. My husband wanted to leave me in old 
Virginia with his mother, while he came and built me a 
house, and got started making a living, but I would not 
be left. Some of our negroes were here, had made a 
beginning towards cultivating the place, and built some 
log cabins, and I said if the cabin would shelter him, it 
would shelter me. ' But, Dorothy,' he said, ' I have to 
go through the Indian Nation on horseback, and some- 
times may have to fly for my life.' ' Well, your life is 
my life,' I said. ' I won't stay.' ' But the baby — how 
can he stand it? ' 'If the Indians get his father, he had 
better go, too,' I persisted, with a hardihood which I 
came near repenting on one occasion, which I shall tell 
you about, if not many others. 

" I did come with my husband, riding much of the 
way behind him on a pillion, with my baby in my lap, he 
parting the cane with his hands to make a way for us. 
Sometimes I went inside one of the three covered wagons 
we had along with us, carrying our effects and some of 
the servants; others rode on mules. We boasted quite a 
cavalcade, and were not attacked by Indians on the way, 
but we had trouble with them quite often while I lived 
in my little cabin, which is Aunt Phillis' house now, and 

[54] 



Stories Grandma Told 

which I love as my first real, own home. They were 
very troublesome, killing hogs and sheep and chickens, 
and stealing everything that was left out of the house; 
and once they came when I was alone in the cabin with 
the baby, and Phillis washing in the yard. There were 
three of them, and I could tell that they were drunk, 
which sent terror to my soul. There was no time for 
me to leave the house, so I called Phillis from the little 
high window in the back, and she flew for dear life to 
the field for the men. But it was some distance, and, 
taking my baby in my arms, I undertook to argue with 
them and hold them off until the men could reach me. 

" They were frightful to behold, in their paint and 
feathers, and furious in their demands for whiskey. I 
had a barrel full, hidden under bedding and clothing in 
the room, but dared not give it up, knowing the mad- 
dening effect It would have. The Indians could not talk 
distinctly, but I managed to understand that they threat- 
ened to kill me and dash my baby's brains out against a 
tree If I would not give them ' fire-water.' They were 
easily frightened and made off when they found that 
help was at hand, and gradually ceased their troublesome 
depredations." 

"Did they hurt the baby?" I asked, breathlessly, 
"Oh, dear, no; they came so close that he tried to pull 
the bright-colored feathers out of their heads, but he 
came through the experience safely, and there he sits 
laughing at you now." "Uncle Howard? Oh, Uncle 
Howard! Was he the baby?" we all cried, running to 
him to touch him and make sure that he was alive after 
having passed through such a scene. " Grandma," said 
Reggie, "why didn't you shoot the Indians when they 
came to your house? I wish / had been there. I would 
have killed them all three; that Is the finest story I ever 

[55] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

heard in my life 1 What a journey that was for a lady 
to takel" "Yes, children," said Grandma, "it was a 
memorable journey, but when my sister and her hus- 
band went to housekeeping, they went twelve hundred 
miles up the river in a keel boat. 

"We were six sisters," continued Grandma, "and 
four of us married our cousins, three of whom were 
Halrstons. Our father was Peter Halrston and our 
mother, Miriam Tate. We had eight brothers. When 
Miriam, our youngest sister, married Nicholas Halr- 
ston, they planned to go at once to his home In Crawford 
County, Arkansas, but after spending ten days with our 
mother, which she Insisted upon, the river was found to 
be too low for steamboats, and no hope of a rise for 
months. Nicholas was anxious to get to his plantation, 
so he asked Miriam if she would take the trip with him 
in a keel boat. It was a distance of twelve hundred 
miles by water from our nearest river town, and he 
represented to her that it would be a long, tiresome 
journey, and subject to many discomforts; but the idea 
possessed the charm of novelty to her, and she eagerly 
consented, so he bought a nice, new keel boat, had a 
cabin fitted up In the stern for their private use, and 
furnished with a berth, table, chairs, their little hair- 
covered, brass-nailed trunks, and a shining new stove. 
Father and Mother loaded the boat with everything In 
the way of household goods they could possibly carry, a 
cook and other servants, furniture, provisions, and 
every luxury the city afforded, for their long trip. They 
employed an experienced guide, but the boat was manned 
by their own slaves, there being enough to relieve each 
other at the oars, so that the work would not be too 
hard. And so, with many tears, we bade them farewell, 
feeling that they were going to another world, but their 

[56] 



Stories Grandma Told 

hearts were full of love and hope as they launched out 
upon a new era In their lives. The oarsmen rowed 
slowly up the river, waking weird echoes from the vast 
forests on either side, as they sang with musical but 
most uncanny intonation, — 'Row, boatmen, row; row, 
boatmen, row 1 Rain or snow, hail or blow, here we go, 
a-sailln' up de river of de O-hi-o I ' keeping time with 
the dripping oars as they dipped into the water, pro- 
pelled the boat, and fell heavily into the oarlocks. 

" They tied up in the evening for the negroes to 
camp, catch fish, and do their cooking, as the boat was 
not large enough to accommodate so many. They met 
with no adventures more serious than getting stuck on 
logs, or slipping head-foremost into the water, to rise 
again with the utmost unconcern. My sister kept a 
diary, which she sent home for us all to read. They 
reached Cairo just in time to see the steamer United 
States leaving. 

" Miriam had never seen a steamboat, and was 
delighted with her grand, majestic movements, but she 
ran upon a bar before they were out of sight, and they 
left her ignominiously stuck in the mud. They had a 
skiff attached to the stern, in which they would occa- 
sionally take a row all by themselves, run far ahead of 
the boat, and get out on a planter — a large log in the 
■^y^ater — and wait to be taken on again. The water was 
so low that the men had to use poles sometimes to push 
across a sand-bar, and once they had to resort to cor- 
delling, — that is, the men formed a line on the sand 
beach with a cable running over their shoulders, and 
attached to the bow, and pulled the boat through the 
shallows. Sometimes they were mistaken for traders, 
as they landed at the settlements, and people would flock 
to the boat to make purchases. 

[57] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

" One day was the same as another on board the 
keel boat, and a httle thing happened to Miriam which 
Nicholas teased her about as long as he lived, but being 
of a very conscientious turn of mind, she made a serious 
matter of it and never got over it. She undertook to 
make a pair of trousers for one of the men who was 
much in need, and when she put in the last stitch, late 
one evening, she found she had been sewing all day 
Sunday ! She wept bitterly, refusing to be comforted. 
' Yes, I know I forgot' she said, ' but, oh, Nicholas ! the 
commandment says, "Remember the Sabbath Day to 
keep it holy." ' 

"When they reached Kedron, a little settlement at 
the mouth of Kedron Creek, they ran aground, and 
could get no farther, being still a hundred miles from 
home. They remained on their boat, with two or three 
servants, and sent the men home on foot through the 
Cherokee Nation to bring horses and saddles for them 
to continue their journey. There were no roads, but 
Indian trails, only as wide as a spade, where they rode 
Indian file, one after the other, through the Nation, 
spending the nights at missions, or wherever they could 
find shelter. They encountered Indians many times 
during their whole trip, and while riding through the 
Nation. Twenty thousand Indians passed by in a body 
on their way to their acquired territory, which was 
moved up the country just at that time. It was an impos- 
ing sight, and frightful, too, but they were not interfered 
with, and reached home safely just before Christmas, 
having journeyed for ten weeks. There was a rise in 
the river the next month, and they were able to send for 
their boat, which they left at Kedron, and bring home 
all their possessions. They lived in that country for 
three years, making many friends, and enjoying the 

[58] 



Stories Grandma Told 

novelty, but at the end of that time they came back to 
the old home, where they lived and died. I have some- 
thing which belonged to my sister, and to our mother 
before her, which I intend to give your Grandmother 
for you, Miriam, since it is marked in your name, and I 
may as well get it now." And Grandma searched for 
keys in her enormous pockets. She wore one on each 
side under her skirt, which had openings to admit her 
hands, and many were the lumps of sugar, tea cakes and 
other goodies we have had from those inexhaustible 
depths, to ease a bumped head or a cut finger. 

" Oh, Grandma," I said, " are you going to open 
the corner press? And may we see in it? " " Yes, come 
with me," she said, and as we left the room we heard 
Grandmother say, " Sister Ann, do you remember that 
there was ever a time when Mother would have let*M5 
into her corner press ? " They laughed, and we followed 
Grandma into her own room, and watched with the 
keenest interest while she carefully unlocked and opened 
the doors of a mahogany cabinet, disclosing a set of 
brass-handled drawers, one of which she opened, and 
took out a box. " Now, we will go back to the sitting- 
room," she said. "Yes; but, oh. Grandma, what is 
that? And that? And that?" cried we all in a breath. 
And so, she showed us her treasures, — miniatures In 
gold settings, old letters and papers, paintings and 
embroideries, pieces of old jewelry, so curious now; a 
silver knitting sheath in the form of a fish, to fasten to 
the side like a breastpin; a silver sheath to fit the finger 
like a ring, broad on top, with finest ridges to catch the 
thread as it was drawn out in sewing, and prevent cut- 
ting into the delicate flesh; a silver butterfly on a stem 
which screwed to the table, and being pressed in the rear 
would open its mouth, to close firmly when released 

[59] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

upon the work, holding it smoothly while a long seam 
was stitched up, or a ruffle hemmed. Silver birds were 
made and used in the same way. Sewing machines were 
unknown in those days. A daintily embroidered infant's 
robe of finest cambric, which her baby, Miriam, my 
Grandmother, had worn when Grandfather took them 
to the city to meet Lafayette, and the great General 
had taken her in his arms and kissed her. Also the 
dress which Grandma herself had worn upon the mem- 
orable occasion, — of figured lavender silk, with very 
narrow skirt, very short waist, and very tight sleeves 
with enormous puffs at the shoulders, which had been 
filled with feathers to make them stand out. 

With difficulty we managed to contain our curiosity, 
as Grandma slowly unrolled what seemed to be yards 
and yards of tissue paper, finally bringing to light a 
piece of her mother's wedding dress of white satin, and 
also a piece of purple satin left of the second day's 
dress; both came from Paris, cost a hogshead of tobacco 
a yard, and were so thick and stiff they would stand 
alone. In the purple satin, she appeared at her infair, a 
grand dining given her by Madam Washington at Mount 
Vernon, which was so near her home that the families 
frequently walked to visit each other, being intimate 
friends for many years. 

" Here is what I intend for you, Miriam," she said, 
" and I might as well give it to you now." " Now, 
Grandma," said both the boys, "you give everything to 
Miriam just because she's named Miriam. Give us 
something." " Well, I will," she said, " but you boys do 
not care for a pincushion and scissors, do you?" And 
she pulled out a silver hook, arranged to fasten securely 
in the belt, with two silver chains, about a foot long, 

[60] 



Stories Grandma Told 

attached to It. One was divided near the end and 
fastened to a pair of scissors, and the other held a silver 
band about as large as a bracelet, in which was tightly 
fitted a round ball pincushion, faded and moth-eaten, 
but which, she said, had been covered many times. On 
the hook were engraved the initials ' M. T. H.' 

" Now, children, listen to me," said Grandma. " I 
have a story to tell you about this chain. Young men in 
old times were as venturesome and hard-headed as they 
are now, if not worse, and my father was a young man 
once. He belonged to a set, called the ' Swell Heads,' 
and I think he must have been the captain and leader, as 
he was always noted for daring deeds. But he had some 
experiences which sobered him to some extent, and one 
of these experiences Is connected with this chain. He 
presented it to his wife soon after their marriage, and 
she wore it constantly, after the fashion of the day. He 
took her to drive behind the fastest horse he could find, 
and coming to a bridge, she begged to get out and walk 
over. 'Why?' he asked. 'Because I am afraid,' she 
answered. He straightened himself up in the most self- 
important, offended way — I have often heard him 
describe it — and asked her If she was afraid to trust 
herself with him I ' No,' she said ; ' If you are willing to 
kill me, I want to die I ' Assuring her that there was no 
danger, he proceeded to dash over the bridge. The 
wheel struck the low railing, which gave way. My 
mother was thrown out and hung over the deep water, 
securely held to the bridge by these little scissors attached 
to her belt, until her remorse-stricken lord could stop 
the frightened horse and fly back to her rescue. 

"And, now, here Is an ivory snuff-box for Reggie, 
and a watch chain for Donald, both of which belonged 

[61] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

to my Grandfather." " Oh, Grandma ! They are fine ! 
Thank you, ma'am," said the boys. "We will keep 
them as long as we live, but the stories are the finest of 
all — that one was almost as good as an Indian story." 

" Come," said Grandma, "that is all." And together 
we went to show our treasures to Grandmother. She 
was so pleased that Grandma had given her the chain 
pincushion for me — she said she had wished for it ever 
since she could remember. 

An old yellow paper dropped out of the box, and, 
opening it. Aunt Ann said: "Oh, Mother, here are 
those ridiculous verses James Hogan wrote and pub- 
lished in his paper when old Uncle Peter and Aunt 
Rachel were married! " " I thought I had lost them," 
said Grandma; "do read them to the children, and I 
will tell them about the wedding, ashamed as I am of 
my ancestor's folly." 

Aunt Ann read aloud : 

"Never Despair 

"Listen, ye single gentlemen, 
And ladies gay and fair, 
Push on in courtship's pleasant road, 
And see you don't despair. 

"Tho' Cupid still should play coquette, 
And lead )^ou here and there, 
The case we publish just below 
Says plainly — Don't Despair. 

"So, go ahead — 'Tis good advice, 
We have kind wishes plenty 
For the friends who marry at eighty-one 
As well as those at twenty." 

[62] 



Stories Grandma Told 
"Married 

"On Tuesday, the 13th instant, Mr. Peter Hairston, of 

County, aged eighty-one years, to Mrs. Rachel Tate Gray, 
aged eighty years and six months. The parties were school- 
mates sixty-four years ago, were lovers at twenty, and at 
eighty-one were married." 

" Yes, children," said Grandma, " it is actually true. 
My father's uncle, Peter Hairston, and my mother's 
aunt, Rachel Tate, were lovers when they were school 
children; he went to the war, was taken prisoner and 
held for four years. She, thinking he was dead, mar- 
ried a Mr. Gray, who died after living with her sixty 
years and having a large family. Uncle Peter was 
devoted to his Colonel, nursed him through his last 
illness, and accepted the gift of his beautiful daughter, 
proffered on his death-bed. He made her a good hus- 
band, but in less than a year after she died he came back 
to his old Rachel, and they were married, as the paper 
stated. They went to his home after the marriage, and 
as they entered the room, the old clock, which had not 
run for years, struck one — waited an hour, and struck 
two, and never could be made to run again. The old 
couple seemed quite happy for one year, and then she 
pined for her children and they started to visit her 
daughter, but Uncle Peter was taken so ill on the way 
that he could not travel, and told her that she must go 
on without him, if she must go, and, to her shame be it 
told, she left him and went on to her daughter. She was 
taken sick and died in a few days, but he recovered and 
lived one year, when he also died, two years after the 
marriage, just as the old clock seemed to prophesy, 
though, of course, that had nothing to do with it. That's 
all," said Grandma, " and I hope that none of my 

[63] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

descendants will ever follow the example of these two 
old people, who, I think, must have been in their dotage." 
And now our visit to Melville Manor was drawing 
to a close. Grandfather must see to his business ; Grand- 
mother was needed at home, to say nothing of Mammy, 
and we children had had holiday enough. Uncle Rock 
said " hog-killin' time was comin'" — he must see that 
the hogs were properly prepared, and we must all get 
ready for Christmas, which was now only a month off. 
So a day was set for our departure, and Uncle Rock 
came up before it was light to make the fire. " How is 
the weather. Rock? " asked Grandfather, sleepily. " Do 
you think we can get off ? " " Well, Marster, de weather 
ain't none o' de bes', but hit's bettern it's gwine ter be. 
I think ef we don't go terday, we'll wisht we had," and 
so we said a mournful good-bye, the big cheese-box was 
packed by Aunt America's care, and we drove off in a 
dismal drizzle. The sun came out by fits and starts, but 
we had some rain, and It was cold. Uncle Rock but- 
toned on his leather front, with its funny little window 
and holes for the reins to come through. We closed our 
windows, and I put on Miss Thusa's sack and hugged 
her close, as I cuddled up to Mammy, with a delightful 
feeling of security, as I watched the raindrops patter on 
the glass, and Grandmother congratulated herself that 
we were getting over these roads before they became 
heavy. The novelty soon wore off, and I was glad 
enough to see the sun about twelve o'clock. 

The Grapevine Spring was not as attractive as it 
was a month before, and being low and damp, we did 
not drive down to it, but Uncle Rock managed to make 
a little fire by the roadside to boil coffee, and we ate 
lunch crowded up in the carriage. We got along slowly 
after lunch, and were all delighted to see the lights of 

[64] 



Stories Grandma Told 

La Vega in the distance. It was dusk when we passed, 
and we could not make out some dark objects, which 
Uncle Rock said were the shanties of the levee hands, 
who were camped there — the lowest class of white men. 

"Missy," said Mammy, "kin you see de trunk out 
er dat back winder? I ain't got no confidence in dese 
yer po' white folks — we nigh in Hollytree Gap." 

" Oh, Mammy, what do you mean? " I said, feeling 
scared. "Oh, nothin', honey — nothin', only I jes' 
thought 'bout de trunk out berhine. What's dat?" And 
I looked just in time to see a tattered hat and a red flan- 
nel sleeve through the glass, when I dropped, speechless, 
in my seat. But Grandmother was not speechless — no, 
indeed 1 Tapping sharply on the window, she opened it 
quickly, just as the trunk disappeared. " What do you 
mean, sir?" she called. "Stop, Uncle Rock I" And 
Uncle Rock jumped down, took up the small trunk, 
which the fellow had dropped in his flight, and putting 
it up in front by him, we hurried on, overtaking the 
buggy just before we came in sight of home. Now we 
could see lanterns bobbing about, and knew they had 
caught sight of our carriage lamps. The great gate 
flew open before we reached it, and shouts of " Dere 
dey come I Howdy, Marster I Howdy, Mistis I " were 
cordially answered. The tired horses plucked up cour- 
age in happy anticipation of their comfortable accom- 
modations, and rolled us rapidly to the house. Light 
streamed from wide doors and windows, and when the 
carriage door was opened and the folding steps let 
down, a seat of interlaced arms appeared, and with an 
arm around the neck of each of her big boys. Grand- 
mother was carried safely up the wet steps and into the 
hall, where I was quickly placed beside her. As I passed 
through the hall and into the rooms, great vases and 

[65] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

jars and banks of chrysanthemums appeared in every 
nook and corner, greeting me with their brightness and 
beauty, and the fresh, penetrating, delightful perfume, 
the memory of which, lingering in my mind, ever singles 
out this one night, and brings vividly back to me my 
happy home-coming. 

We found ourselves in the midst of an uproarious 
welcome, from Aunt Eunice and the girls, and Miss 
Hale, the boys, the babies, and the black friends. The 
boys took possession of their mother, and the girls hov- 
ered around their father. 

" Hi, Marster, you is wet ! " said Torm, as he seized 
Grandfather's overcoat to remove it. "Oh, no; just a 
little damp," he answered. But Grandmother had not 
failed to take the alarm, and was feeling his knees and 
shoulders. Dorothy went to make a toddy, and Torm 
knelt to tug at his heavy boots. " Old boy, Fm glad to 
see you," said Grandfather, patting the woolly head. 
" Oh, these slippers feel good ! What is so comfortable 
as an old shoe? Miriam, isn't it grand to be home 
again?" And he sipped his toddy with Hardie on his 
foot. 

"What is that about your trunk?" he said, indig- 
nantly, as he heard the children talking excitedly. " Why, 
my brave woman, I am afraid you were imprudent. 
The fellow might have been impertinent, I should never 
have left you so far behind, but I drove on without a 
thought of danger in our quiet old neighborhood. It is 
exasperating, but there is nothing to be done with that 
class of people. They are a necessary evil — the levee 
work must be done, and we are not willing to expose the 
health of our people to such a risk." 

Nervy unfastened my cloak and hood and admired 
Miss Thusa, saying, " Come on. Missy, me an' Rachel 

[66] 



Stories Grandma Told 

got somethin' fer yer," and I went into the dining-room, 
closely followed by Cely and Nancy, who stuck to me 
until I said, "Bring in Miss Thusa's trunk (the prune 
box), get out her night-gown and cap, undress her and 
put her to bed." And so I left her with her delighted 
nurses, while I examined and went into ecstacies over 
three dear little baby rabbits, which pined and died 
after delighting my heart for a few days, in spite of 
constant attention and plenty of cabbage leaves. 

" Oh, Nervy," I cried, all at once, " did you find my 
lunch? " " Law, yes, honey," she answered, sympathet- 
ically, " an' I tried ter save it fer ye, but Miss Eunice 
say how it would spile yer carpit-bag, an' fer us ter eat it 
up, an' make you some mo', and we an' de chillun had a 
party, an' it was mighty good, an' me an' Rachel gwine 
ter pull you some mo' candy termorrer ! " 

The smallest detail of that evening is Indelibly 
impressed upon my mind. " Torm," said Rachel, " dere's 
Aunt Nacky's bell." " Well, come on, help me bring in 
supper," said Torm. " I got a heap ter bring in ter- 
night." Going to the kitchen with them, I heard Torm 
say, "Unc' Rock, Mistis wants you — she say come ter 
de dinin'-room." And there she stood, stirring his 
dram with her own hands, and cautioning him against 
keeping his feet wet and taking cold. 



[67] 







CHAPTER IV. 

Christmas. 

THE threatening weather continued for several 
days, and hog-killing time was at hand. Chng- 
ing to Grandfather with one hand, and holding 
my nose with the other, I inspected the bad-smelling 
pens, and cast my eye up at the clouds to note whether 
in my judgment the process of fattening and the indica- 
tions of the all-important freeze would culminate at the 
proper point to secure sausages and spare-ribs for 
Christmas. The freeze always came, and the hog-pen 
held such fascination that I could not stay away, but 
would watch the men until they approached an unsus- 
pecting victim with gleaming knife, when, flying to the 
house with fingers in my ears, I awaited the shout with 
which the boys recalled me, just in time for the horrid 
deed, the sight of which I wished to avoid. 

Late in the evening, the scalding and scraping and 
cleaning being completed, the animals were suspended 
in long rows, heads downwards, on poles which were 

[69] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

supported by forks placed in the ground, and with gory 
throats and sunken eyes, silent and reproachful, they 
slowly stiffened in the cold night air, their white bodies 
gleaming, ghostlike, in the light of the great fires around 
which the negroes were gathered, all untouched by the 
pathetic sight, playing games, singing songs and dancing 
to the music of two fiddles, the performers perched high 
on the woodpile, as they wielded their bows, shouted 
their orders, or roared with laughter at the frequent 
downfalls of the dusky lads and lasses who rashly bet 
that " Us kin dance as fas' as you kin play I " The pene- 
trating light of the blazing fires revealed the white 
dresses and bright kerchiefs of the women, and the eager 
faces and rapid movements of the men, as they piled 
high the fires, and kept faithful watch against dogs, or 
possible wild beasts. 

Aunt Silvia, with dark-red shawl drawn over her 
head, keeping time to the music with foot and voice, as 
she stirred the giblet stew with a wooden paddle, or 
renewed the embers on the ash-cake for their midnight 
feast, very aptly represented the Gipsy and her Kettle, 
which alone were wanting to complete the weird, fan- 
tastic scene. 

One morning at breakfast, after we had been at 
home only a few days. Grandfather said, " Miriam, I 
believe I will go to the city before Christmas this year, 
if you will go with me." *' Oh, dear," she said, " I have 
just been away for so long ! " " Well, so have I, and I 
don't feel like going again by myself — come, go with 
me," said he. " The boat Is due tonight at six, and I 
have a good deal of cotton to ship. Can you be ready? 
If we wait for the next boat we will not have time. I 
want to do big things for Christmas this year," with a 
knowing look up and down the long table, which set us 

[70] 



Christmas 

all to wriggling. "Very well," said Grandmother, "I 
will get ready," and immediately all hands set to work 
to help. A great many orders must be given to Uncle 
Rock, Mammy, Torm and the others, and Aunt Eunice 
and the girls, with Jane to help, packed the trunk. 
None of us were to go this time, so we contented our- 
selves with seeing them off. 

The hoarse whistle called us to the landing, and we 
all stood on the levee as the great steamer slowly and 
majestically approached, with tinkling bells and roaring 
steam; the long stage swung into position, and as if by 
magic, the face of the earth was alive with men, the 
merry laughter of our own black-faced, white-clad people 
mingling curiously with the rough voice of the mate, 
and the indescribably intoned boat-song of the red- 
visaged, red-shirted deckhands, as they transferred the 
huge pile of cotton bales from the river bank to the 
lower deck, handling them laboriously with strong iron 
hooks, all unassisted by the negroes, as, with hands in 
their pockets, they coolly and critically watched loading 
operations. 

Such a scene occurring at night, was weird, and 
exciting beyond description. Great torches made of 
pine or *' llght'ood " knots, and enclosed in wire baskets, 
were elevated so as to illumine the yellow waves, the 
autumn-tinted forest across the river, and the sky Itself, 
bringing Into relief the two vast columns of dense black 
smoke, as they poured from the tall chimneys and min- 
gled with the clouds on high, heaving and rolling with 
ceaseless motion, as If struggling to repress the furious- 
looking dark-red flames which occasionally shot forth 
from their enormous depths. 

The great bell clanged loudly Its signal for leaving. 
"All aboard! " shouted the mate. "All aboard 1 " ech- 

[71] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

oed voices far and near, and with a loving farewell for 
each one, Grandfather and Grandmother released 
themselves from our clinging arms, and hurried on 
board, reiterating promises as far as they could be 
heard, of what they were going to bring us from the city 
if we would be good children. Eagerly we watched them 
as they made their way through the crowd. Grandfather 
conspicuous in his great height, and when they appeared 
on deck, hats and sunbonnets fluttered frantically in 
answer to their waving handkerchiefs, until Mammy 
called, "Come in, chlllun, out de wind — hit's bad luck 
to watch anybody out er sight," and we went In to sup- 
per, feeling that the sun had gone down figuratively, as 
it had literally. 

We studied hard to make up for our long holiday, 
and soon began to look forward to their home-coming, 
which we expected In two weeks. In just one week the 
boat was due again on its down trip, but, as often hap- 
pened, it was delayed many hours, and It was nearly 
daylight when we were startled by the loud, continued 
ringing of the great bell, which was a signal that there 
were passengers for our landing. " Hit's Marster and 
Mistis comin' home," said Jane. " Hi I " said Torm. 
"Ain't you got no sense? Don't ye know Marster an' 
Mistis ain't comin' down de river? " And he ran to the 
landing with a score of others to bring trunks and bags, 
while we all dressed in the greatest excitement, and 
none too soon, to meet our big boys, Malcolm and 
Howard, whose holiday came earlier than they expected 
on account of Illness In their school, so they could spend 
two weeks with us. 

Grandfather and Grandmother came in a few days, 
much troubled to have missed even a small part of the 
boys' visit. Torm said it took the force of the planta- 

[72] 



Christmas 

tion to "tote" Marster's freight from the boat, and it 
did look as if they would never get through with the 
trunks, boxes, bales and barrels — one big barrel espe- 
cially suggesting egg-nog — which were stowed mysteri- 
ously away, and being opened when the great time came, 
produced good cheer for every living soul on the place. 
There were new dresses and suits, coats and wraps, hats, 
and handkerchiefs, and gloves, and many other things 
for black and white. Reggie was considered old enough 
at last to possess a shotgun, which he received with 
sparkling eyes, and a great show of big boy indifference. 
Donald's delight over the " Rollo books " was pure and 
unaffected. A complete dinner set was mine, and a 
daintily decorated tea set, with cups and saucers so large 
that I offered to lend them to Grandmother sometimes, 
and was proud and happy when she accepted and used 
them with her own for after-dinner coffee, when there 
was much company. I also received a sure-enough 
doll's trunk, with a tray and a lock and key; a large, 
beautiful wax doll with golden curls, and blue eyes, 
which would open and shut. I dressed her in a pink 
silk dress which had once been my own, and seated her 
in my little rocking chair in the parlor. I called her 
"LouHe" for Uncle Melville's wife, who, being the 
only bride I had ever seen, was placed on a pedestal and 
worshipped from afar, since the day he brought her to 
Penultima. I played with Loulie whenever I wished, 
and showed her off to my friends with pride, but she 
never took Miss Thusa's place in my heart of hearts. 
The boys' big trunks were running over with bales 
and bags of chewing and smoking tobacco, so plentiful 
where they came from; pipes by the gross, calico by the 
bolt, bandanas by the dozens, and big boxes of stick 
candy, all of which set the quarters in an uproar. They 

[73] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

also brought us the most magnificent fireworks we had 
ever seen — Roman candles, pin-wheels, whirhgigs, and 
other wonders, which, with our usual generous supply 
of little firecrackers, kept the plantation alive all the 
week. On their way home the boys had spent a few 

days in the City of N , near their school, and among 

other sights had visited the penitentiary, and brought 
home specimens of wood-work which the convicts were 
allowed to do in their own time and sell for their own 
benefit. Toy buckets, tubs, pails and piggins made of 
staves of red and white cedar, carefully dovetailed 
together, and bound with brass. I remember a dipper, 
which was simply a miniature tub, with a handle placed 
at the proper angle, and a churn made in the same way 
and holding about a quart, was the joy of my heart for 
many a day. With a big apron tied on, I splashed and 
spattered and wasted cream, and was astonished and 
delighted when the butter really did come in answer to 
Nervy's song, "Come, butter, come; de King an' de 
Queen is er standin' at de gate, er waitin' fer some 
butter an' a cake — Oh, come, butter, come!" Torm 
made me a little butter paddle, with which I worked and 
messed with the tiny pat, rounded it off with the greatest 
care in a cup plate, printed it in lines forming diamonds, 
under Nervy's instructions, and put it at Grandfather's 
place at the table. He sliced it off and put it into his hot 
roll, making no sign except a slight twinkle in the corner 
of his eye, until I squealed and brought down upon 
myself the much-dreaded laugh. 

The proper celebration of Christmas was a part of 
Grandfather's religion, and by his special wish, and 
Grandmother's hearty and efficient aid, not a living 
creature was forgotten or neglected. All manner of 
labor was suspended for the entire week, except what 

[74] 



Christmas 

was absolutely necessary for our comfort, and the grand 
celebration of the day, or number of days, and grave 
indeed was the offense of child or servant which would 
merit a rebuke. For weeks beforehand preparations 
were in progress in order that the holiday might be 
given over to rest and enjoyment for man and beast. 
Load after load of wood was hauled and piled moun- 
tain high in the back yard, extra help was called in, and 
axes and shouts resounded until Grandfather's eyes 
twinkled in satisfaction at the enormous back-logs and 
logs of all sizes which promised luxurious warmth for 
all throughout the season. 

The house was put in order, with perhaps a new 
carpet or rug or curtains; Mistress and maid rejoiced 
in new dress, apron and kerchief, in order that a seemly 
air of brightness should prevail. The outcome of the 
hog-killing fulfilled our expectations, and turkeys and 
chickens enjoyed their meals in merciful ignorance of 
the reason of their extra richness. 

Mammy carefully watched the circle of young hands 
as they stoned raisins, washed currants, chopped citron, 
picked nuts and pounded spices, for fear her cake would 
be short of seasoning, and a long row of loaves appeared, 
whose thick white coat left the future to decide whether 
they were fruit, pound or sponge — fancy cakes were 
not thought much of then. There were tin boxes filled 
with crisp, delicate tea cakes for the little ones, and tall 
stone jars, whose close covers failed to keep In the 
delicious odor of mincemeat, which promised pies for 
weeks to come. Quantities of eggs, saved from our 
superabundance, were packed in salt or meal for Christ- 
mas egg-nog, and with fruits, nuts and wines from the 
city. Grandmother's great storeroom was full to over- 
flowing. Cooks and house servants were relieved as 

[75] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

much as possible by women from the quarter, who were 
pleased to be called to "de great house," and the "many 
hands made light work." 

Christmas seasons appear like shining lights along 
the line of my past, impressed upon my mind from 
earliest childhood, by the state of excitement, joy and 
complete abandon which possessed my home. They 
were celebrated in much the same manner year after 
year, but passing over a few years of my life at this 
time, I seem to recall one occasion with more than ordi- 
nary pleasure, the neighborhood being gay with young 
guests, or perhaps the charm existed in the fact that I 
was at an age when simply to live is joy. 

This particular occasion was brought vividly to my 
mind this morning as I observed evidences of decorating 
the church for Christmas, when I went to early com- 
munion. As I passed slowly up the broad, gray stone 
steps, cold and wet with the dew of early morning, the 
great doors swung silently open at my approach, and I 
stood for a moment gazing in admiration of the spec- 
tacle revealed. The vast interior of the grand city 
church, with wreaths and holly drest, candles twinkling 
softly among the evergreens, brass furnishings, and 
hangings of gold-embroidered white, vases dressed with 
delicate vines and brilliant hot-house flowers, all com- 
bined to form a scene of glorious beauty. It wanted a 
few minutes to time for service ; I moved to my seat and 
allowed my thoughts to dwell on my surroundings. The 
dim, religious light prevailed, but a festive air pervaded 
the holy place, laden with the subtle, penetrating, remi- 
niscent odor of evergreens and redolent of memories 
sweet and joyous. 

Just as the sun, rising in majestic splendor over the 
spotless earth, poured its earliest beams through the 

[76] 



Christmas 

magnificent window of stained glass in the east, glinting 
over the vaulted ceiling of dark polished oak, and cast- 
ing long lines of glorified light through aisles and 
archways, the grand organ pealed forth its signal to the 
choir, a hush fell upon the place, and from the distance 
came the notes of the Christmas hymn, soft and low, 
swelling into triumphant melody as the Cross appeared. 

Mechanically I rose to my feet and the procession 
of white-clad forms moved up the aisles, through the 
sunshine, and entered their places, singing their glad 
song as they marched. Infinite space divided me from 
the familiar scene. The "Vanished Hand" drew aside 
the veil. "The Voice that is still" yet echoed from 
Memory's distant shore, " Cease your wild wailing, sad 
Heart; put back the tears, and look while you may." 

Forty years arranged themselves into a vista of 
diminishing circles, reaching far into the past, through 
which I gazed, spell-bound, at the spectacle revealed. 
Bright sunshine, snow-covered earth far and wide; ice- 
bound twigs and branches glittering in the light; a little 
brown church, nestling so closely among the pine, cedar 
and holly, with clinging vines, as to make easy the task 
of Christmas decorating, for which the young people of 
the two neighborhoods were gathering. A train of plan- 
tation wagons appeared, each with its bed of clean hay, 
on which were seated a party of six or eight ladies; its 
negro driver in rough coat, white woolen muffler and 
mittens, and cap drawn closely over the ears; its four 
shining mules, their nostrils emitting whirling sprays of 
vapor, as they deftly made their way up the steep hills, 
or rattled down at a pace which caused the older mem- 
bers of the party to hold their breath in terror, and the 
younger ones to scream with laughter, — the frozen, 
slippery condition of the roads making holding back 

[77] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

impossible, notwithstanding the occasional "Whoa!" 
of the grinning drivers. 

A roundabout way was taken to collect the reddest 
holly berries, the largest bunches of mistletoe, and the 
longest gray moss, which were effectively used In deco- 
rating, and each cross-roads brought its addition to 
the party. Shouts could be heard in the distance from 
all directions, before the horsemen appeared with offer- 
ings of mistletoe, whose bright leaves and large bunches 
of opal berries betrayed the perilous heights from which 
they had been gathered, and caused the girls to bring 
forth counter attractions In their brightest smiles and 
most cordial welcomes, vainly hoping to avert the scorn 
and derision they feared for their own little store. 

Within the church preparations were being made 
for our comfort. Prim Mrs. Halstead, stepping in 
through the tiny vestry room, whose outer door opened 
into the side yard of the rectory, was well pleased to 
find our Torm at his post. " Good morning, Thomas," 
she said. "You are here, are you?" "Yes, ma'am; 
I'se here, ma'am; look lak I'se alius de one ter git here 
fus' an' have dis fire to make," answered Torm, with a 
smiling face, as he spread his enormous hands, like can- 
vased hams In their white mittens, over the polished 
stove, now reddening with the heat, "Well, no one 
could make a better fire, Thomas. Who did you bring 
with you?" "I fotch 'em all, ma'am — Missy and 
Miss Patty, an' all — dey out dere in de woods gittin' 
vines — here dey comes now." 

Standing In the open door, Mr. Halstead received 
the party with even more than his usual satisfaction, for 
St. Mary's was to have the extraordinary honor of the 
Bishop's visit at Christmas. An unprecedented fall of 
snow, fourteen inches on a level, took our people com- 

[78] 




THE LITTLE BROWN CHURCH 



Christmas 

pletely by surprise, and so demoralized the entire neigh- 
borhood that no team could be found strong enough, no 
driver bold enough, to undertake the trip of thirty miles 
to Durant, the nearest railroad station, so the Bishop 
found himself a prisoner among us, and very superior 
were the airs, and very unnatural the graces with which 
we commiserated the discomfiture of our sister parish 
of Linden, twelve miles away through the snow, whose 
time we had monopolized and whose spiritual needs 
must now await his next visitation. 

In came the gay crowd, vainly trying to remember 
that they were in church, as the rector said, and to 
reduce their spirits to a proper level, and the work of 
decorating began In earnest. Torm stretched long cords 
for the wreaths and busied himself passing hammer and 
tacks, scissors and twine, bunches of cedar and bits of 
information from one group or couple to another, ever 
singling out those who were happily paired off. In the 
far corners, upon whom to press his attentions. He 
handed them water, insisted upon their coming nearer 
the fire, and kept them well supplied with materials, 
grinning broadly as they made excuses to get him away. 
"MIssey," he said, coming over to me, "jes' look er 
yonder at Mars' Stuart and Miss Jean — de church ain't 
gwlne ter git dressed 'fore Christmas ef it 'pen's on 
dem — he jes' er whittlln' cedar, an' she ain't wrapped 
none er her wreath hawdly — Miss Patty an' all dem 
young uns is er sewin' Lorry Mundy leaves on dem 
pas'eboa'd letters, an' jes' look at de white lilies dey 
done made out er paper ! Dey ain't got nothin' else to 
study 'bout." "Now, Torm," I said, "let them alone 
and bring in some wood for the stove. I'm cold, and 
we have work to do in here ; bring the high stepladder, 
and here comes Mr. Halstead with Campbell and Ken- 

[79] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

neth to tack these Inscriptions over the altar; ask Reggie 
to bring the letters from the little girls." 

" Stand back, everybody," called Kenneth from his 
elevated stand, " and see if this line is straight. How do 
you spell Alleluia? 'On earth p-e-a-c-' — what is the 
matter with this el — covered on the wrong side, as I 
am a sinner! Jean, I'll bet that was your work; don't 
try to lay it on little Patty; you and Stuart will have to 
try again to put the final e to your peace! There, now," 
glancing at Mr. Halstead, who was laughing silently, 
" remember, you are all in church. Hush, Torm, and 
help me move this ladder." "Hi, Missy," said Torm, 
" what dat I tell ye ? Don't dat beat yer time, people ? " 

Very busy, and very consequential, now was our 
rector. The proper celebrating of two such occasions 
in one called forth no small amount of energy, and 
executive ability, and right nobly did the good man 
prove himself equal to the emergency. As soon as I saw 
the flutter of his coat-tails, so ludicrously inconsistent 
with the earnest gravity of his face, I knew he had a 
scheme on foot, and as. soon as I saw his chin with its 
long gray beard raised high in the air and ducked down 
into his collar, as he caught sight of me and made for 
my corner, I knew it had to do with the music. " See 
here, Miriam," said he, " do you think we could manage 
to have the vested choir march in singing on Christmas 
morning? " "Oh, Mr. Halstead! Why, er — why, — 
day after tomorrow?" "Well," he said, "it is short 
notice, but you have practiced them pretty faithfully, 
and they do remarkably well, and I thought it would 
please the Bishop." " But, Mr. Halstead, their vest- 
ments are not all ready, and we have no cross. Grand- 
father is going to give us one, but I told him Easter 
would be time enough." " Well," said Mr. Halstead, " I 

[80] 




THE BISHOP 



Christmas 

will see to the cross; I will make one of wood, covered 
with gold paper, and dressed with evergreens, which will 
answer. There are seven of our own boys at home for the 
holidays, and four boys are their guests, making eleven, 
all familiar with the work. With your nine scholars they 
would make a very respectable choir, and as to vest- 
ments, they brought all home for repairs; some of your 
boys are provided, and the four little fellows might be 
left out." "Left out!" I cried in indignation. "No, 
sir; I'll make their new cottas myself, or Grandmother 
will have it done. I'll manage it, Mr. Halstead. The 
idea of leaving my little boys out ! Yes, sir, I'll manage 
it; with those big University boys to lead them they will 
do well, I am sure." 

" Missy, hit's er gittin' mighty late," said Torm, 
and standing off for a last admiring look, we congratu- 
lated each other upon the result of our labors, said 
good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Halstead, and closed the 
doors, leaving everything swept and garnished. 

" Now, Torm, what are you waiting for?" I asked. 
" Missy, don't you hear Mr. Halstead a-hollerin' at me? 
He say, ' Wait a moment ! ' " " Oh, certainly," I replied, 
"what is it, Mr. Halstead? Is there anything we can 
do?" "Well, see here, Miriam," said he, "I hate to 
impose upon good nature, — you have so much to do 
about the music and other things, but the other wagons 
have all gone and I am in a dilemma." " Why, what is 
it, Mr. Halstead? Grandmother charged me to find out 
if there was anything to be done." " Well, the Bishop's 
robe — it must be done up, and there was no time." 
" Oh, give it to me," I said. " I'll bring it back Christ- 
mas morning when I come to church — I have to come 
early, you know; I'll have it here in time. Good-bye; 
we are late, and it is so cold." 

[81] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

And now it was Christmas Eve, and the hilarity at 
its climax. Grandfather had the big wagon put on run- 
ners, and for the first time in our lives we went sleighing. 
The boys, with Torm to drive, took us to the holly 
grove in search of a Christmas tree. We selected one 
with bright red berries, and fastened pine boughs here 
and there to relieve the stiffness, with their drooping 
tassels and brown burrs. They placed it in a tub of 
sand in the big front parlor, which had four large win- 
dows opening down to the floor, in order that all the 
people might have full view of the brilliant sight from 
the gallery. We covered the tub down to the floor with 
gray moss and piled it high with apples and oranges, 
decorated the branches with balls and festooned strings 
of popcorn, and then, after placing as many wax candles 
as could possibly be made to stick, to be lighted at the 
proper time, we closed the door securely, leaving Santa 
Claus in undisturbed possession, and the great chimney 
open for his use. 

"Mammy, where are the boys?" I asked, going 
into the dining-room. " De Lawd knows, honey," she 
answered; "dey gone off somewhar wid Torm, an' he 
ort ter be here settin' de table; I dunno what dey doin' 
'dout dey fixin' de Christmas gun [a large hollow log, 
stuffed with moss and rags and plenty of powder, and a 
fuse arranged so as to explode it at daylight] — I want 
'em to put it a long way fum de house ef dey got ter 
have it — hit le-ter-mo-ter skeered de life out er me las' 
year. Now, here ye come 1 " And Mammy's turban 
began to quake ominously. "What ye doin' c'lectin' 
'roun' me wid yer ban's in yer pockets, er whistlin' so 
innercent? Y'up to some devilment — yesy'is, too — I 
knows ye! Git fum berhine me! Oh, Je — ! Dar, 
now, ye le-ter-mo-ter made me say a bad word! " And 

[82] 



Christmas 

Mammy whirled around, flirting her skimpy skirts as 
far as they would go, and caught Reggie by his waist- 
band. "Now, Regnaul," she said, "listen ter me; ef 
you does th'ow another om^ erdem firecrackers — under 
my coat-tail — I'll ketch you an' I'll kiss you in de mouf, 
right in de presunce er all dem gals ! — You hear me, 
mun, 'fo' Gawd, I'll do It! I notter gwine ter be pes- 
tered dis er way, ef ye is nineteen year old! " And for 
a little while Reggie was very careful, knowing full well 
that if Mammy chose to carry her threat into execution 
she would have able support. 

The day of days was ushered in before light by a 
bang and a roar, which testified to the accuracy of 
Torm's calculations as to the length of that fuse, and 
there was no more sleep or rest for old or young. The 
fires were kept up all night in our rooms in order that 
the children might not suffer from the cold, when they 
must investigate the long row of stockings which were 
" hung by the chimney with care " in Grandmother's 
room. When Uncle Rock came with fresh logs for the 
fire, he tiptoed to the door, which he opened suddenly 
and shouted, "Christmas gif ! Christmas gif !" to the 
whole flock of little white-clad, barefooted ones, danc- 
ing with ecstacy and glee, whom Mammy and Miranda 
were vainly trying to get into their clothes. They raised 
an answering cry, and instantly, from every nook and 
corner of the house was echoed, " Christmas gif 1 Christ- 
mas gif, Marster I Christmas gif, Mistis ! Christmas 
gif, chillun ! " in unrestrained freedom and joy, all know- 
ing full well that their most daring advances would be 
cordially and affectionately accepted and returned, for 
was it not Christmas? 

Grandfather and Grandmother, undisturbed by the 
noise and confusion, lent their aid to all schemes with 

[83] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

ready sympathy, unless some one, In the ardor of excite- 
ment, would have imposed upon the young or helpless, 
who were promptly and vigorously protected. 

Each one protested violently, " I caught you, Christ- 
mas gif — you got ter gimme somethin' I " but all were 
willing to wait for the tree after dinner, well satisfied 
that they were to be generously remembered. 

The beautiful snow added zest to every undertak- 
ing; the air was thick with flying balls and resounding 
with good-natured shouts, as boys and girls of all ages, 
sizes and colors, mingled in a happy throng, disregarding 
benumbed toes and fingers, wet collars, icicles thrust 
down backs or up sleeves, or sometimes a bloody nose. 
Going into the warm kitchen to thaw our limbs for more 
vigorous action, the flop-flop of a dozen egg-beaters 
greeted our ears. "Oh, the egg-nog!" we all cried. 
" Mammy, let us help." " Git out de way I " said Aunt 
Nacky, who was nervous and excited, in constant dread 
of the fearful firecrackers. " Lemme make out my 
rolls; how in de name er Gawd I gwine ter git break- 
fus' ? Ef de white folks keep er comin' in de kitchen I 
jes' well's ter put on my bonnet and set in de parlor — 
dar, now I" "Well, come on, chlllun," said Mammy; 
" hit's ready ter car'y in de house, anyhow," and hfting 
an enormous bowl, she led the way, followed by a pro- 
cession of assistants, similarly loaded, and the entire 
family immediately crowded around her. " Could egg- 
nog possibly be made in anything but a yellow bowl?" 
asked Miss Hale, regarding the long row on the pantry 
shelf with interest. " They certainly are a good match 
for the foaming contents." " Miss Leslie's recipes 
always begin, ' Break a dozen eggs Into a yellow bowl,' " 
said Grandmother, smiling. " I ain't studdin' Miss 
Leslie," said Mammy, with a scornful toss of her tur- 

[84] 



Christmas 

baned head. " What dat ole maid know 'bout cookin' ? " 
" She ain't nothin' but a Yankee, nohow." " Take care, 
Aunt Polly," said Miss Hale, with a good-natured 
laugh. "I'm a Yankee!" "No, ye'ain't, neither; ye 
ain't what I calls a Yankee. Now, gimme de ladle an' 
fetch yer glasses an' yer cups an' yer bowls an' yer 
spoons — Hoo-rah ! " 

After breakfast Torm drove the wagon close to the 
back gallery through snow up to the hubs ; the hay was 
thick and soft, and Grandmother sent rugs, blankets 
and comforters until there seemed to be no room left 
for the children; but we all crowded in, with Jane to 
take care of Unie, and hurried off, for I must get to the 
church early for a last practice with my boys. We were 
driving around the curve to the front, when Torm pulled 
up and listened. "Ain't dat Mammy callin'? Yes; an' 
what is dat she's a-wavin' at us? Missy, hit look lak a 
red-en' towel. I ain't sayin' it is a red-en' towel, but it 
look lak it," and he waited near the steps. "Who dat 
callin' me, Mammy? You black nigger, you — I ain't 
none er yo' mammy! Git down out er dat wagin an' 
come git dis bun'le. I notter gwine ter step down in de 
wet in my cyarpit slippers ! I done pin hit up good, 
Missy, in one er yo' Grandmother's big new towels." 
" Oh ! — the Bishop's robe ! " I cried. " Just suppose I 
had forgotten it ! " " Suppose ^j^ /i^i f ergot it? Ef ye 
ain't f ergot it I dunno what ye done den," said Mammy. 
" Ole Marster sho' would er spoke de Word dis day in 
his nice black suit ef it hadn't er been fer Mammy, which 
'pear lak ter me would er look mo' suitubler, anyhow, 
den all dis yere! De Lawd er mussy, jes' look at dat 
chile, all out de kiver I Missy, you promised me to keep 
de comf erter over her years I Gawd bless its little mouf , 
hit's too cole fer you to go out — come, le's me an' you 

[85] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

go back in de house an' make some candy — come onter 
Mammy, honey," and forgetting her " cyarpit slippers," 
Mammy stepped down into the snow and held out her 
hands to Unie, but Torm said, " Hoo-ee ! Ain't Reggie 
an' dem gwine ter sing pretty ter day? / wants ter see 
'em in dey white robes jes' lak de angels." "Oh, Torm, 
do go on," I said. "You shet up, nigger," called 
Mammy. "She was jes' studdin' 'bout comin' ter me 
ef you hadn't er put in yer big mouf — I gwine ter tell 
Mistis on you, mun ! Pull dat comferter over dat chile's 
years, Missee — e — e I " 

We reached the church after a laborious, but withal 
delightful, drive through the snow. " Jane, carry this 
bundle to the vestry room. I'll be there as soon as I get 
the children in," I said. "Now, children, remember, 
there will be a good many outsiders here today, — I 
mean people who are not accustomed to our church, and 
our ways, so we must all be very careful to attend to the 
prayer books and rise and kneel in time — don't forget. 
Grandfather and Grandmother and all the others will 
be here directly — now be good — I must go to see 
about the music." And, sweUing with importance, I 
said, " Come, Reggie, call the choir boys and let's go 
over the hymn; we have no time to lose before eleven 
o'clock. Here come Mr. and Mrs. Halstead now." 

I seated myself at the little organ and we had a last 
rehearsal, and I must own up to no small degree of 
pride as their really fine voices rose in perfect harmony, 
and keeping time with their march. It needed only a 
glance at Mr. Halstead's face to assure me of our suc- 
cess. And now it was nearly time for the congregation to 
assemble — indeed, many were already there, and I 
went into the vestry room to await the hour for service, 
when I must enter the church first of all. " Jane," said 

[86] 



Christmas 

I, "unpin the Bishop's robe and hang it right there 
beside Mr. Halstead's surpHce, where he can't help see- 
ing it — there, that will do." "Torm," said Jane, "whar 
dat towel? " " Dar hit right dar berhine Missy on dat 
ch — I Well, I know I seed it dar — whar is it?" and 
Torm stared blankly at the chair. " Dat what I axin' 
you," said Jane; "whar is it?" "I know I put it dar. 
Sis' Polly charge me ter take keer Mistis' red-en' towel, 
an' now you done los' it! You better git dat towel, 
muni" "Now, Missy," said Torm, "you hear dat 
nigger? What I got ter do wid de towel?" "Oh, 
never mind now, Jane," I said, " it must be right around 
somewhere — it will turn up." Little did I dream where! 
"Here come the Bishop and Mr. Halstead; I must go. 
Are all the boys here? Yes, my four dear little ones 
and all — Reggie, do look after them." 

The voluntary, which we decided, in view of so much 
more singing than usual, must be instrumental, was 
safely over. I raised my fingers from the keys, listen- 
ing intently for the "Amen" which should end the 
Bishop's prayer, when the hymn must begin, and clear 
and distinct in the stillness came Torm's voice from 
behind the open door : " Jane I Dar dat towel. Name 
er Gawdl can't ye git it?" "No!" "Oh, mercy!'' 
thought I, like a flash. " Can't they let the old towel 
alone? " "Amen," sang the boys, and recovering myself 
by a mighty effort, I began the accompaniment exactly 
on time. Oh, how beautifully they were doing their 
part, viewed from the little mirror I had placed before 
me, in order to see behind my back. What an inspira- 
tion to do my best! How pleased the Bishop and Mr. 
Halstead would be I Oh, everything was all right — and 
yet there surely was something in the air — what was 
the matter? How I did want to look, but I must play 

[87] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

until the hymn was over. They were beginning to move 
into the stalls (twenty chairs, arranged in rows). 

Mr. Halstead and the young rector from Linden 
moved reverently, one on each side, to allow the Bishop 
to pass to the chancel. What was the matter with the 
young rector from Linden? Was he — ? Oh, of course 
not, but what a cough he had ! How red his face was I 
"Amen," sang the boys once more, and I turned to look. 
What on earth was that so persistently dogging the 
Bishop's footsteps, flapping impudently in time with 
every motion as he moved slowly up the three steps to 
the altar? Oh, could it be, — " The Lord Is in His Holy 

Temple; Let all the earth keep si " "Look at dat 

towel !" cried Unie, from her perch on the back of 
Grandfather's seat, where, with his arm around her, she 
viewed the scene, so new and beautiful to her. Never 
shall I forget the look of mingled consternation and 
condemnation with which our good rector regarded his 
flock, when he jerked his head up from his book and 
laid off that long forefinger in a comprehensive sweep, 
as he had a habit of doing to give emphasis to his words, 
and found them all, from Grandfather down to little 
Unie, struggling in frantic, but futile, efforts to "keep 
silence before Him " ! 

The question in every heart, "Whatmustbe done?" 
was quickly settled by Patty, the tom-boy, the daredevil, 
the promoter of all schemes, the teacher of all tricks, 
the adviser of all adventures, — bright, beloved Patty! 
Without a questioning look to anyone, she moved noise- 
lessly from her seat, passed into the vestry room in a 
twinkling, and, appearing at the altar before we knew 
what was In her mind, she tried to remove the offending 
appendage, but that pin was put in to stay, and was far 
up on the under side! Patty disappeared under the 

[88] 



Christmas 

Bishop's robe, and the dear Father in God was betrayed 
into opening wide his eyes, but the benevolence which 
had characterized his life was shining in their clear- 
gray depths, the blessed song without words, which had 
brought hope to many a fainting heart before, reassured 
her as she looked fearfully up at him, plainly saying, " I 
am very much surprised at this proceeding, but it is 
Patty — it must be right." 

We blundered through the service, becoming grad- 
ually quiet, until at last, with bowed heads and uplifted 
hearts, we beheld the Bishop enter the pulpit and stand 
before us in his noble beauty, his magnetic, angelic per- 
sonality claiming and holding our loving and devoted 
attention through his long sermon. 

There was a large class confirmed that day, and with 
the gentle, firm pressure of those dear hands on our 
heads we felt that ever thereafter to sin was to compro- 
mise him — to bow his beautiful white head in grief and 
sorrow for us ; so comprehensive and all-powerful was 
his love, embracing all within the great field of his 
wonderful work. 

Never was there such a blending of purity and wis- 
dom, gentleness and power, tender love and unfaltering 
condemnation, as in our grand old Bishop, our beloved 
" Father in God." His family are worthy representa- 
tives, sons and grandsons being in the ministry, and 
daughters and grand-daughters, as beautifully, if less 
conspicuously, continuing the great work, which they 
accepted as a legacy of priceless worth. It has been my 
privilege through life to call them my closest friends; I 
love and honor them, and thankfully accept their loving 
ministrations as my birthright. 

The Bishop went home with us, of course; so did 
Mr. and Mrs. Halstead, and the young rector from 

[89] 



When I Was a Little Girl 

Linden, and with our own family and their guests, we 
had thirty-one at our Christmas dinner. The Bishop 
enjoyed the dinner, admired the church decorations, 
praised the music, lauded Patty's daring act, and no one 
laughed so merrily over the event of the morning as he. 
He played with the children, told riddles to the young 
folks, telling us to hold up two fingers if he should be 
guilty of repeating one of last season's jokes; he held a 
levee for the old darkies after dinner, and was the life 
of the occasion at the grand opening of the doors for 
the tree. 

So ended Christmas at Penultima, and so ends the 
story of my life, which was one long dream of peace and 
happiness until Grandfather passed away, when the 
earth seemed to fall from beneath my feet — all was 
changed and dark. Dear Grandmother folded her 
beautiful hands and waited, rousing herself after a 
while for my sake. "Yes, dear child," she said, "your 
Uncle is right, — you need a change; you must go home 
with him to spend the winter," and, overruling my objec- 
tions, she sent me away from her, little dreaming that it 
was for the last time; she followed Grandfather that 
winter — then the house was burned, and I was left 
fatherless, and motherless, and homeless. 

It seemed as though it would break my heart to 
leave her in her loneliness, but she had other grandchil- 
dren with her for the time, and she would have it so. As 
we waited on the levee for the steamer, I turned for a 
last look at my home, in full view from our elevated 
position. The north wind blew across the river, rolling 
the variegated autumn leaves in brilliant drifts over the 
lawn. The sun was low and cast Its slanting rays over 
a scene whose beauty needed only the element of life, 
without which there Is a solemnity, a gloom, almost 

[90] 



Christmas 

amounting to desolation, with all due respect to the 
beauties of nature. This need was provided in perfec- 
tion by the presence of Grandmother McNeill, as she 
stood in the open doorway, waving her hand to us, her 
full, commanding figure erect and graceful, her eye deep 
blue and sparkling, though seventy winters had left 
their snows on her noble head, converting her once 
sunny locks into a crown of glory — spotless, changeless 
white. She was a picture of perfect old age, a loving 
and lovely tribute to the tender care and devotion of 
our venerated Grandfather, who, in his youth and 
strength, the proudest and happiest of men, had led her 
to the altar. " Do not ask me to leave here, my chil- 
dren," she would say, when each one begged her to 
share his or her home. " More than half a century ago 
my husband seated me in this drawing-room, on our 
wedding day, and with his arms about me, and his kisses 
on my lips, he said: 'Come to my heart, and to my 
home, Miriam, my wife, — our home now. We call it 
Penultima — the last home but one!' My star of hope 
has set, but its after-glow is guiding me surely to him, 
and I must go from Penultima!'' 

"Till death us do part 

Ever one to remain," 
To the new-plighted heart 
Was a whisper of pain. 

For the soul never dies, 

And the life that is fled 
Waits, widowed as I, 

Until death us do wed. 



[91] 



-^ 



^^ 



^< 



't * 



f. 



v^ 






^^s"^' 







^. 



"oV 








^^•n^. 




4c 



^v, <5> "^" V^' .. *^^ •'"' ^0 ^ •"■■ aV^ 




,^'% 



























'0 



• r , 








vPC, 



















>^ o_ 









y° ..... % •" -^ 



A'- 




- ■'^ A^ ► 








-^0 



v-o^ 






V"^' 
,<^^^ 
















• .^ 






^o. -. 



"^ o « o 



^" --...- /^■•;v,/\.i^ 






I . * • 







^/ .^ tt, V 








r. s * ,0' 








^^-n^ 



V" ♦*^L'* c> 



.-^ * 







,^ .,. 



.0- 















'bV" 






